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OT^i> 


LIST  OF  BOOKS 


Novels 
Freckles 

A  Girl  of  the  Limberlost 
At  the  Foot  of  the  Rainbow 
The  Harvester 
Laddie 
Michael  O'Halloran 

Nature  Books 
The  Song  of  the  Cardinal 
Friends  in  Feathers 
Birds  of  the  Bible 
Music  of  the  Wild 
Moths  of  the  Limberlost 
Morning  Face 


w  Mil 

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71= 


"  'If  I  were  you  I  wouldn't  worry  about  me,  Robert.  There 
are  many  women  in  the  world  willing  to  pay  for  your  con- 
sideration; save  it  for  them.'  " 


A  DAUGHTEF 
OF  THE  LAN! 


GENE 

STRATTON- 

PORTER 


5v^ 

Rrf 


^ 


^  ■*Brl 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  b 

I.  The  Wings  of  Morn* 


EAQS 


».  t 


ING.       ,       .      .      .      « 

II.  An  Embryo  Mind 
Reader    .     .    «    ,* 

III.  Peregrinations^    - 

IV.  A  Question  of.Cqn- 

tracts     .    •    -    .„ 

V.  The    Prodi.gATl 
Daughter    .    ,    ... 

VI. .Kate's    Pri.vXte 

Pupil  .    .    ,    .    .      95 

^Helping  ^Uno^El- 
len  and  robert^o 


17 

36 
76 


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CONTENTS— Continued 


■rff 


CHAPTER  PAGB 

XV.  A  New  Idea.  .     .    237 

XVL.The  Work  of  the 

Sun   ....    255 

XVII.  The  Banner  Hand   275. 

XVIII..  Kate^Takes*  the 

Bit    in^Her      •4$*£^''Jfc/'*3^3 
TrisTH    .     .     .     2&$^f  y^* 

XIXr^SAMANS0WETH"^309 

XX^'For  a  Good  Girl? 

-  i  r 

XXI.^Life's  Boomerang. 
XXII-SomeVha' 


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ABB-  -a 


GENE  STRATTON 


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CHAPTER  I 
The  Wings  of  Morning 

TAKE  the  wings  of  Morning." 
Kate  Bates  followed  the  narrow  footpath 
rounding  the  corner  of  the  small  country 
church,  as  the  old  minister  raised  his  voice  slowly  and  im- 
pressively to  repeat  the  command  he  had  selected  for 
his  text.  Fearing  that  her  head  would  be  level  with  the 
windows,  she  bent  and  walked  swiftly  past  the  church; 
but  the  words  went  with  her,  iterating  and  reiterating 
themselves  in  her  brain.  Once  she  paused  to  glance  back 
toward  the  church,  wondering  what  the  minister  would 
say  in  expounding  that  text.  She  had  a  fleeting  thought 
of  slipping  in,  taking  the  back  seat  and  listening  to  the 
sermon.  The  remembrance  that  she  had  not  dressed  for 
church  deterred  her;  then  her  face  twisted  grimly  as  she 
again  turned  to  the  path,  for  it  occurred  to  her  that  she  had 
nothing  else  to  wear  if  she  had  started  to  attend  church  in- 
stead of  going  to  see  her  brother. 

As  usual,  she  had  left  her  bed  at  four  o'clock;  for  seven 

3 


4  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

hours  she  had  cooked,  washed  dishes,  made  beds,  swept, 
dusted,  milked,  churned,  following  the  usual  routine 
of  a  big  family  in  the  country.  Then  she  had  gone 
upstairs,  dressed  in  clean  gingham  and  confronted  her 
mother. 

"I  think  I  have  done  my  share  for  to-day,"  she  said. 
"Suppose  you  call  on  our  lady  school-mistress  for  help 
with  dinner.     I'm  going  to  Adam's." 

Mrs.  Bates  lifted  her  gaunt  form  to  very  close  six  feet  of 
height,  looking  narrowly  at  her  daughter. 

"Well,  what  the  nation  are  you  going  to  Adam's  at  this 
time  a-Sunday  for?"  she  demanded. 

"Oh,  I  have  a  curiosity  to  learn  if  there  is  one  of  the 
eighteen  members  of  this  family  who  gives  a  cent  what 
becomes  of  me!"  answered  Kate,  her  eyes  meeting  and 
looking  clearly  into  her  mother's. 

"You  are  not  letting  yourself  think  he  would  'give  a 
cent'  to  send  you  to  that  fool  normal-thing,  are  you?" 

"I  am  not!  But  it  wasn't  a  'fool  thing'  when  Mary 
and  Nancy  Ellen,  and  the  older  girls  wanted  to  go.  You 
even  let  Mary  go  to  college  two  years." 

"Mary  had  exceptional  ability,"  said  Mrs.  Bates. 

"I  wonder  how  she  convinced  you  of  it.  None  of  the 
rest  of  us  can  discover  it,"  said  Kate. 

"What  you  need  is  a  good  strapping,  Miss." 

"I  know  it;  but  considering  the  facts  that  I  am  larger 
than  you,  and  was  eighteen  in  September,  I  shouldn't 
advise  you  to  attempt  it.  What  is  the  difference  whether 
I  was  born  in  '62  or  '42?     Give  me  the  chance  you  gave 


THE  WINGS  OF  MORNING  5 

Mary,  and  I'll  prove  to  you  that  I  can  do  anything  she  has 
done,  without  having  'exceptional  ability!'" 

"The  difference  is  that  I  am  past  sixty  now.  I  was 
stout  as  an  ox  when  Mary  wanted  to  go  to  school.  It  is 
your  duty  and  your  job  to  stay  here  and  do  this  work." 

"To  pay  for  having  been  born  last?  Not  a  bit  more  than 
if  I  had  been  born  first.  Any  girl  in  the  family  owes  you 
as  much  for  life  as  I  do;  it  is  up  to  the  others  to  pay  back 
in  service,  after  they  are  of  age,  if  it  is  to  me.  I  have 
dene  my  share.  If  Father  were  not  the  richest  far- 
mer in  the  county,  and  one  of  the  richest  men,  it  would 
be  different.  He  can  afford  to  hire  help  for  you,  quite  as 
well  as  he  can  for  himself." 

"Hire  help!     Who  would  I  get  to  do  the  work  here?" 

"You'd  have  to  double  your  assistants.  You  could 
not  hire  two  women  who  would  come  here  and  do  so  much 
work  as  I  do  in  a  day.  That  is  why  I  decline  to  give  up 
teaching,  and  stay  here  to  slave  at  your  option,  for  gingham 
dresses  and  cowhide  shoes,  of  your  selection.  If  I  were 
a  boy,  I'd  work  three  years  more  and  then  I  would  be 
given  two  hundred  acres  of  land,  have  a  house  and  barn 
built  for  me,  and  a  start  of  stock  given  me,  as  every  boy 
in  this  family  has  had  at  twenty-one." 

"A  man  is  a  man!  He  founds  a  family,  he  runs  the 
Government!     It  is  a  different  matter,"  said  Mrs.  Bates. 

"It  surely  is;  in  this  family.  But  I  think,  even  with 
us,  a  man  would  have  rather  a  difficult  proposition  on 
his  hands  to  found  a  family  without  a  woman;  or  to  run 
the  Government  either." 


6  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

"All  right!  Go  on  to  Adam  and  see  what  you  get." 
"I'll  have  the  satisfaction  of  knowing  that  Nancy 
Ellen  gets  dinner,  anyway,"  said  Kate  as  she  passed 
through  the  door  and  followed  the  long  path  to  the  gate, 
from  there  walking  beside  the  road  in  the  direction  of  her 
brother's  home.  There  were  many  horses  in  the  pasture 
and  single  and  double  buggies  in  the  barn;  but  it  never 
occurred  to  Kate  that  she  might  ride:  it  was  Sunday 
and  the  horses  were  resting.  So  she  followed  the  path 
beside  the  fences,  rounded  the  corner  of  the  church  and 
went  on  her  way  with  the  text  from  which  the  pastor  was 
preaching,  hammering  in  her  brain.  She  became  so 
absorbed  in  thought  that  she  scarcely  saw  the  footpath 
she  followed,  while  June  flowered,  and  perfumed,  and  sang 
all  around  her.* 

She  was  so  intent  upon  the  words  she  had  heard  that 
her  feet  unconsciously  followed  a  well-defined  branch  from 
the  main  path  leading  into  the  woods,  from  the  bridge, 
where  she  sat  on  a  log,  and  for  the  unnumbered  time,  re- 
viewed her  problem.  She  had  worked  ever  since  she  could 
remember.  Never  in  her  life  had  she  gotten  to  school 
before  noon  on  Monday,  because  of  the  large  washings. 
After  the  other  work  was  finished  she  had  spent  nights 
and  mornings  ironing,  when  she  longed  to  study,  seldom 
finishing  before  Saturday.  Summer  brought  an  endless 
round  of  harvesting,  canning,  drying;  winter  brought 
butchering,  heaps  of  sewing,  and  postponed  summer  work. 
School  began  late  in  the  fall  and  closed  early  in  spring, 
with  teachers  often  inefficient;  yet  because  she  was  a  close 


THE  WINGS  OF  MORNING  7 

student  and  kept  her  books  where  she  could  take  a  peep 
and  memorize  and  think  as  she  washed  dishes  and  cooked, 
she  had  thoroughly  mastered  all  the  country  school  near 
her  home  could  teach  her.  With  six  weeks  of  a  summer 
Normal  course  she  would  be  as  well  prepared  to  teach  as 
any  of  her  sisters  were,  with  the  exception  of  Mary,  who 
had  been  able  to  convince  her  parents  that  she  possessed 
two  college  years'  worth  of  "  ability." 

Kate  laid  no  claim  to  "ability,"  herself;  but  she  knew 
she  was  as  strong  as  most  men,  had  an  ordinary  brain 
that  could  be  trained,  and  while  she  was  far  from  beautiful 
she  was  equally  as  far  from  being  ugly,  for  her  skin  was 
smooth  and  pink,  her  eyes  large  and  blue-gray,  her  teeth 
even  and  white.  She  missed  beauty  because  her  cheek- 
bones were  high,  her  mouth  large,  her  nose  barely  escap- 
ing a  pug;  but  she  had  a  real  "crown  of  glory"  in  her 
hair,  which  was  silken  fine,  long  and  heavy,  of  sunshine- 
gold  in  colour,  curling  naturally  around  her  face  and  neck. 
Given  pure  blood  to  paint  such  a  skin  with  varying  emo- 
tions, enough  wind  to  ravel  out  a  few  locks  of  such  hair, 
the  proportions  of  a  Venus  and  perfect  health,  any  girl 
could  rest  very  well  assured  of  being  looked  at  twice,  if 
not  oftener. 

Kate  sat  on  a  log,  a  most  unusual  occurrence  for  her, 
for  she  was  familiar  only  with  bare,  hot  houses,  furnished 
with  meagre  necessities;  reeking  stables,  barnyards  and 
vegetable  gardens.  She  knew  less  of  the  woods  than  the 
average  city  girl;  but  there  was  a  soothing  wind,  a  sweet 
perfume,  a  calming  silence  that  quieted  her  tense  mood 


8  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

and  enabled  her  to  think  clearly;  so  the  review  went  on 
over  years  of  work  and  petty  economies,  amounting  to  one 
grand  aggregate  that  gave  to  each  of  seven  sons  house, 
stock,  and  land  at  twenty-one;  and  to  each  of  nine  daugh- 
ters a  bolt  of  muslin  and  a  fairly  decent  dress  when  she 
married,  as  the  seven  older  ones  did  speedily,  for  they 
were  fine,  large,  upstanding  girls,  some  having  real  beauty, 
all  exceptionally  well-trained  economists  and  workers. 
Because  her  mother  had  the  younger  daughters  to  help  in 
the  absence  of  the  elder,  each  girl  had  been  allowed  the 
time  and  the  money  to  prepare  herself  to  teach  a  country 
school;  all  of  them  had  taught  until  they  married.  Nancy 
Ellen,  the  beauty  of  the  family,  the  girl  next  older  than 
Kate,  had  taken  the  home  school  for  the  second  winter. 
Going  to  school  to  Nancy  Ellen  had  been  the  greatest 
trial  of  Kate's  life,  until  the  possibility  of  not  going  to 
Normal  had  confronted  her. 

Nancy  Ellen  was  almost  as  large  as  Kate,  quite  as  pink, 
her  features  assembled  in  a  manner  that  made  all  the  dif- 
ference, her  jet-black  hair  as  curly  as  Kate's,  her  eyes  big 
and  dark,  her  lips  red.  As  for  looking  at  Kate  twice,  no  one 
ever  looked  at  her  at  all  if  Nancy  Ellen  happened  to  be 
walking  beside  her.  Kate  bore  that  without  protest;  it 
would  have  wounded  her  pride  to  rebel  openly;  she  did 
Nancy  Ellen's  share  of  the  work  to  allow  her  to  study  and 
have  her  Normal  course;  she  remained  at  home  plainly 
clothed  to  loan  Nancy  Ellen  her  best  dress  when  she 
attended  Normal;  but  when  she  found  that  she  was 
doomed  to  finish  her  last  year  at  school  under  Nancy 


THE  WINGS  OF  MORNING  9 

Ellen,  to  work  double  so  that  her  sister  might  go  to  school 
early  and  remain  late,  coming  home  tired  and  with  lessons 
to  prepare  for  the  morrow,  some  of  the  spontaneity  left 
Kate's  efforts. 

She  had  a  worse  grievance  when  Nancy  Ellen  hung 
several  new  dresses  and  a  wrapper  on  her  side  of  the  closet 
after  her  first  pay-day,  and  furnished  her  end  of  the 
bureau  with  a  white  hair  brush  and  a  brass  box  filled  with 
pink  powder,  with  a  swan's-down  puff  for  its  applica- 
tion. For  three  months  Kate  had  waited  and  hoped  that 
at  least  "thank  you"  would  be  vouchsafed  her;  when  it 
failed  for  that  length  of  time  she  did  two  things:  she 
studied  so  diligently  that  her  father  called  her  into  the 
barn  and  told  her  that  if  before  the  school,  she  asked 
Nancy  Ellen  another  question  she  could  not  answer,  he 
would  use  the  buggy  whip  on  her  to  within  an  inch  of  her 
life.  The  buggy  whip  always  had  been  a  familiar  imple- 
ment to  Kate,  so  she  stopped  asking  slippery  questions, 
worked  harder  than  ever,  and  spent  her  spare  time  plan- 
ning what  she  would  hang  in  the  closet  and  put  on  her 
end  of  the  bureau  when  she  had  finished  her  Normal 
course,  and  was  teaching  her  first  term  of  school. 

Now  she  had  learned  all  that  Nancy  Ellen  could  teach 
her,  and  much  that  Nancy  Ellen  never  knew:  it  was  time 
for  Kate  to  be  starting  away  to  school.  Because  it  was 
so  self-evident  that  she  should  have  what  the  others  had 
had,  she  said  nothing  about  it  until  the  time  came;  then 
she  found  her  father  determined  that  she  should  remain 
at  home  to  do  the  housework,  for  no  compensation  other 


io  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

than  her  board  and  such  clothes  as  she  always  had  worn, 
her  mother  wholly  in  accord  with  him,  and  marvel  of  all, 
Nancy  Ellen  quite  enthusiastic  on  the  subject. 

Her  father  always  had  driven  himself  and  his  family 
like  slaves,  while  her  mother  had  ably  seconded  his  efforts. 
Money  from  the  sale  of  chickens,  turkeys,  butter,  eggs, 
and  garden  truck  that  other  women  of  the  neighbour- 
hood used  for  extra  clothing  for  themselves  and  their 
daughters  and  to  prettify  their  homes,  Mrs.  Bates  handed 
to  her  husband  to  increase  the  amount  necessary  to  pur- 
chase the  two  hundred  acres  of  land  for  each  son  when  he 
came  of  age.  The  youngest  son  had  farmed  his  land  with 
comfortable  profit  and  started  a  bank  account,  while  his 
parents  and  two  sisters  were  still  saving  and  working 
to  finish  the  last  payment.  Kate  thought  with  bitter- 
ness that  if  this  final  payment  had  been  made  possibly 
there  would  have  been  money  to  spare  for  her;  but  with 
that  thought  came  the  knowledge  that  her  father  had 
numerous  investments  on  which  he  could  have  realized 
and  made  the  payments  had  he  not  preferred  that  they 
should  be  a  burden  on  his  family. 

"Take  the  wings  of  morning,"  repeated  Kate,  with  all 
the  emphasis  the  old  minister  had  used.  "Hummm! 
I  wonder  what  kind  of  wings.  Those  of  a  peewee  would 
scarcely  do  for  me;  I'd  need  the  wings  of  an  eagle  to  get 
me  anywhere,  and  anyway  it  wasn't  the  wings  of  a  bird  I 
was  to  take,  it  was  the  wings  of  morning.  I  wonder  what 
the  wings  of  morning  are,  and  how  I  go  about  taking  them. 
God  knows  where  my  wings  come  in;  by  the  ache  in  my 


THE  WINGS  OF  MORNING  n 

feet  I  seem  to  have  walked,  mostly.  Oh,  what  are  the 
wings  of  morning?" 

Kate  stared  straight  before  her,  sitting  absorbed  and 
motionless.  Close  in  front  of  her  a  little  white  moth 
fluttered  over  the  twigs  and  grasses.  A  kingbird  sailed 
into  view  and  perched  on  a  brush-heap  preparatory  to 
darting  after  the  moth.  While  the  bird  measured  the 
distance  and  waited  for  the  moth  to  rise  above  the  en- 
tangling grasses,  with  a  sweep  and  a  snap  a  smaller  bird, 
very  similar  in  shape  and  colouring,  flashed  down,  catch- 
ing the  moth  and  flying  high  among  the  branches  of  a  big 
tree. 

"Aha!  You  missed  your  opportunity !"  said  Kate  to 
the  kingbird. 

She  sat  straighter  suddenly.  "Opportunity,"  she  re- 
peated. "Here  is  where  I  am  threatened  with  missing 
mine.  Opportunity!  I  wonder  now  if  that  might  not 
be  another  name  for  'the  wings  of  morning. '  Morning 
is  winging  its  way  past  me,  the  question  is:  do  I  sit 
still  and  let  it  pass,  or  do  I  take  its  wings  and  fly 
away?" 

Kate  brooded  on  that  awhile,  then  her  thought  for- 
mulated into  words  again. 

"  It  isn't  as  if  Mother  were  sick  or  poor,  she  is  perfectly 
well  and  stronger  than  nine  women  out  of  ten  of  her  age; 
Father  can  afford  to  hire  all  the  help  she  needs;  there  is 
nothing  cruel  or  unkind  in  leaving  her;  and  as  for 
Nancy  Ellen,  why  does  the  fact  that  I  am  a  few  years 
younger  than  she,  make  me  her  servant?     Why  do  I  cook 


12  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

for  her,  and  make  her  bed,  and  wash  her  clothes,  while  she 
earns  money  to  spend  on  herself?  And  she  is  doing 
everything  in  her  power  to  keep  me  at  it,  because  she 
likes  what  she  is  doing  and  what  it  brings  her,  and  she 
doesn't  give  a  tinker  whether  I  like  what  I  am  doing  or 
not;  or  whether  I  get  anything  I  want  out  of  it  or  not; 
or  whether  I  miss  getting  off  to  Normal  on  time  or  not. 
She  is  blame  selfish,  that's  what  she  is,  so  she  won't  like 
the  jolt  she's  going  to  get;  but  it  will  benefit  her  soul, 
her  soul  that  her  pretty  face  keeps  her  from  developing,  so 
I  shall  give  her  a  little  valuable  assistance.  Mother  will 
be  furious  and  Father  will  have  the  buggy  whip  conven- 
ient; but  I  am  going!  I  don't  know  how,  or  when,  but 
I  am  going. 

"Who  has  a  thirst  for  knov-  lodge,  in  Helicon  may  slake  it, 
If  he  has  still,  the  Roman  will,  to  find  a  way,  or  make  it." 

Kate  arose  tall  and  straight  and  addressed  the  sur- 
rounding woods.  "Now  you  just  watch  me  'find  a  way 
or  make  it,'"  she  said.  "I  am  'taking  the  wings  of 
morning,'  observe  my  flight!  See  me  cut  curves  and 
circles  and  sail  and  soar  around  all  the  other  Bates  girls 
the  Lord  ever  made,  one  named  Nancy  Ellen  in  partic- 
ular. It  must  be  far  past  noon,  and  I've  much  to  do  to 
get  ready.     I  fly!" 

Kate  walked  back  to  the  highway,  but  instead  of  going 
on  she  turned  toward  home.  When  she  reached  the  gate 
she  saw  Nancy  Ellen,  dressed  her  prettiest,  sitting  beneath 
a  cherry  tree  reading  a  book,  in  very  plain  view  from  the 


THE  WINGS  OF  MORNING  13 

road.  As  Kate  came  up  the  path:  "Hello!"  said  Nancy 
Ellen.     "Wasn't  Adam  at  home?" 

"I  don't  know,"  answered  Kate.     "I  was  not  there." 

"You  weren't?  Why,  where  were  you?"  asked  Nancy 
Ellen. 

"Oh,  I  just  took  a  walk!"  answered  Kate. 

"Right  at  dinner  time  on  Sunday?  Well,  I'll  be 
switched!"  cried  Nancy  Ellen. 

"  Pity  you  weren't  oftener,  when  you  most  needed  it," 
said  Kate,  passing  up  the  walk  and  entering  the  door. 
Her  mother  asked  the  same  questions  so  Kate  answered 
them. 

"Well,  I  am  glad  you  came  home,"  said  Mrs.  Bates. 
"There  was  no  use  tagging  to  Adam  with  a  sorry  story, 
when  your  father  said  flatly  that  you  couldn't  go." 

"But  I  must  go!"  urged  Kate.  "I  have  as  good  a 
right  to  my  chance  as  the  others.  If  you  put  your  foot 
down  and  say  so,  Mother,  Father  will  let  me  go.  Why 
shouldn't  I  have  the  same  chance  as  Nancy  Ellen  ?  Please 
Mother,  let  me  go!" 

"You  stay  right  where  you  are.  There  is  an  awful 
summer's  work  before  us,"  said  Mrs.  Bates. 

"There  always  is,"  answered  Kate.  "But  now  is  just 
my  chance  while  you  have  Nancy  Ellen  here  to  help  you." 

"She  has  some  special  studying  to  do,  and  you  very 
well  know  that  she  has  to  attend  the  County  Institute, 
and  take  the  summer  course  of  training  for  teachers." 

"So  do  I,"  said  Kate,  stubbornly.  "You  really  will 
not  help  me,  Mother?" 


i4  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND; 

"I've  said  my  say!  Your  place  is  here!  Here  you 
stay!"  answered  her  mother. 

"All  right,"  said  Kate,  "I'll  cross  you  off  the  docket  of 
my  hopes,  and  try  Father." 

"Well  I  warn  you,  you  had  better  not!  He  has  been 
nagged  until  his  patience  is  lost,"  said  Mrs.  Bates. 

Kate  closed  her  lips  and  started  in  search  of  her  father. 
She  found  him  leaning  on  the  pig  pen  watching  pigs  grow 
into  money,  one  of  his  most  favoured  occupations.  He 
scowled  at  her,  drawing  his  huge  frame  to  full  height. 

"I  don't  want  to  hear  a  word  you  have  to  say,"  he  said. 
"You  are  the  youngest,  and  your  place  is  in  the  kitchen 
helping  your  mother.  We  have  got  the  last  installment 
to  pay  on  Hiram's  land  this  summer.  March  back  to 
the  house  and  busy  yourself  with  something  useful!" 

Kate  looked  at  him,  from  his  big-boned,  weather- 
beaten  face,  to  his  heavy  shoes,  then  turned  without  a 
word  and  went  back  toward  the  house.  She  went  around 
it  to  the  cherry  tree  and  with  no  preliminaries  said  to  her 
sister:  "Nancy  Ellen,  I  want  you  to  lend  me  enough 
money  to  fix  my  clothes  a  little  and  pay  my  way  to  Nor- 
mal this  summej.  I  can  pay  it  all  back  this  winter.  I'll 
pay  every  cent  with  interest,  before  I  spend  any  on  any- 
thing else." 

"Why,  you  must  be  crazy!"  said  Nancy  Ellen. 

"Would  I  be  any  crazier  than  you,  when  you  wanted  to 
go?"  asked  Kate. 

"But  you  were  here  to  help  Mother,"  said  Nancy 
Ellen. 


THE  WINGS  OF  MORNING  15 

"And  you  are  here  to  help  her  now,"  persisted  Kate. 

"But  I've  got  to  fix  up  my  clothes  for  the  County 
Institute,"  said  Nancy  Ellen,  "I'll  be  gone  most  of  the 
summer." 

"I  have  just  as  much  right  to  go  as  you  had,"  said 
Kate. 

"Father  and  Mother  both  say  you  shall  not  go,"  an- 
swered her  sister. 

"I  suppose  there  is  no  use  to  remind  you  that  I  did  all 
in  my  power  to  help  you  to  your  chance." 

"You  did  no  more  than  you  should  have  done,"  said 
Nancy  Ellen. 

"And  this  is  no  more  than  you  should  do  for  me,  in  the 
circumstances,"  said  Kate. 

"You  very  well  know  I  can't!  Father  and  Mother 
would  turn  me  out  of  the  house,"  said  Nancy  Ellen. 

"I'd  be  only  too  glad  if  they  would  turn  me  out,"  said 
Kate.  "You  can  let  me  have  the  money  if  you  like. 
Mother   wouldn't    do    anything    but    talk;    and    Father 

would  not  strike  you.  or  make  you  go,  he  always  favours 

>> 
you. 

"He  does  nothing  of  the  sort!  I  can't,  and  I  won't, 
so  there!"  cried  Nancy  Ellen. 

"  'Won't,' "  is  the  real  answer,  'so  there,'  "  said  Kate. 

She  went  into  the  cellar  and  ate  some  cold  food  from 
the  cupboard  and  drank  a  cup  df  milk.  Then  she  went 
to  her  room  and  looked  over  all  her  scanty  stock  of  cloth- 
ing, laying  in  a  heap  the  pieces  that  needed  mending- 
She  took  the  clothes  basket  to  the  wash   room,  which 


16  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

was  the  front  of  the  woodhouse,  in  summer;  built  a  fire, 
heated  water,  and  while  making  it  appear  that  she  was 
putting  the  clothes  to  soak,  as  usual,  she  washed  every- 
thing she  had  that  was  fit  to  use,  hanging  the  pieces  to  dry 
in  the  building. 

"Watch  me  fly!"  muttered  Kate.  "I  don't  seem  to 
be  cutting  those  curves  so  very  fast;  but  I'm  moving. 
I  believe  now,  having  exhausted  all  home  resources,  that 
Adam  is  my  next  objective.  He  is  the  only  one  in  the 
family  who  ever  paid  the  slightest  attention  to  me,  maybe 
he  cares  a  trifle  what  becomes  of  me,  but  Oh,  how  I 
dread  Agatha!  However,  watch  me  take  wing!  If  Adam 
fails  me  I  have  six  remaining  prospects  among  my  loving  i 
brothers,  and  if  none  of  them  has  any  feeling  for  me  or 
faith  in  me  there  yet  remain  my  seven  dear  brothers-in-law, 
before  I  appeal  to  the  tender  mercies  of  the  neighbours; 
but  how  I  dread  Agatha!     Yet  I  fly!" 


CHAPTER  II 
An  Embryo  Mind  Reader 

KATE  was  far  from  physical  flight  as  she  pounded 
the  indignation  of  her  soul  into  the  path  with  her 
hi  substantial  feet.  Baffled  and  angry,  she  kept 
reviewing  the  situation  as  she  went  swiftly  on  her  way, 
regardless  of  dust  and  heat.  She  could  see  no  justice  in 
being  forced  into  a  position  that  promised  to  end  in  fur- 
ther humiliation  and  defeat  of  her  hopes.  If  she  only 
could  find  Adam  at  the  stable,  as  she  passed,  and  talk 
with  him  alone!  Secretly,  she  well  knew  that  the  chief 
source  of  her  dread  of  meeting  her  sister-in-law  was 
that  to  her  Agatha  was  so  funny  that  ridiculing  her 
had  been  regarded  as  perfectly  legitimate  pastime.  For 
Agatha  was  funny;  but  she  had  no  idea  of  it,  and  could  no 
more  avoid  it  than  a  bee  could  avoid  being  buzzy,  so  the 
manner  in  which  her  sisters-in-law  imitated  her  and 
laughed  at  her,  none  too  secretly,  was  far  from  kind. 
While  she  never  guessed  what  was  going  on,  she  realized 
the  antagonism  in  their  attitude  and  stoutly  resented  it. 

Adam  was  his  father's  favourite  son,  a  stalwart,  fine- 
appearing,  big  man,  silent,  honest,  and  forceful;  the  son 
most  after  the  desires  of  the  father's  heart,   yet   Adam 

17 


18  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

was  the  one  son  of  the  seven  who  had  ignored  his  father's 
law  that  all  of  his  boys  were  to  marry  strong,  healthy 
young  women,  poor  women,  working  women.  Each  of 
the  others  at  coming  of  age  had  contracted  this  prescribed 
marriage  as  speedily  as  possible,  first  asking  father 
Bates,  the  girl  afterward.  If  father  Bates  disapproved, 
the  girl  was  never  asked  at  all.  And  the  reason  for  this 
docility  on  the  part  of  these  big,  matured  men,  lay  wholly 
in  the  methods  of  father  Bates.  He  gave  those  two 
hundred  acres  of  land  to  each  of  them  on  coming  of  age, 
and  the  same  sum  to  each  for  the  building  of  a  house  and 
barn  and  the  purchase  of  stock;  gave  it  to  them  in  words, 
and  with  the  fullest  assurance  that  it  was  theirs  to  improve, 
to  live  on,  to  add  to.  Each  of  them  had  seen  and  handled 
his  deed,  each  had  to  admit  he  never  had  known  his  father 
to  tell  a  lie  or  deviate  the  least  from  fairness  in  a  deal  of 
any  kind,  each  had  been  compelled  to  go  in  the  way 
indicated  by  his  father  for  years;  but  not  a  man  of  them 
held  his  own  deed.  These  precious  bits  of  paper  remained 
locked  in  the  big  wooden  chest  beside  the  father's  bed, 
while  the  land  stood  on  the  records  in  his  name;  the 
taxes  they  paid  him  each  year  he,  himself,  carried  to  the 
county  clerk;  so  that  he  was  the  largest  landholder  in  the 
county  and  one  of  the  very  richest  men.  It  must  have 
been  extreme  unction  to  his  soul  to  enter  the  county 
office  and  ask  for  the  assessment  on  those  "little  parcels 
of  land  of  mine."  Men  treated  him  very  deferentially, 
and  so  did  his  sons.  Those  documents  carefully  locked 
away  had  the  effect  of  obtaining  ever-ready  help  to  harvest 


AN  EMBRYO  MIND  READER  19 

his  hay  and  wheat  whenever  he  desired,  to  make  his  least 
wish  quickly  deferred  to,  to  give  him  authority  and  the 
power  for  which  he  lived  and  worked  earlier,  later,  and 
harder  than  any  other  man  of  his  day  and  locality. 

Adam  was  like  him  as  possible  up  to  the  time  he 
married,  yet  Adam  vkls  the  only  one  of  his  sons  who 
disobeyed  him;  but  there  was  a  redeeming  feature. 
Adam  married  a  slender  tall  slip  of  a  woman,  four  years 
his  senior,  who  had  been  teaching  in  the  Hartley  schools 
when  he  began  courting  her.  She  was  a  prim,  fussy 
woman,  born  of  a  prim  father  and  a  fussy  mother,  so 
what  was  to  be  expected  ?  Her  face  was  narrow  and  set, 
her  body  and  her  movements  almost  rigid,  her  hair,  always 
parted,  lifted  from  each  side  and  tied  on  the  crown,  fell 
in  stiff  little  curls,  the  back  part  hanging  free.  Her 
speech,  as  precise  as  her  movements,  was  formed  into 
set  habit  through  long  study  of  the  dictionary.  She 
was  born  antagonistic  to  whatever  existed,  no  matter 
what  it  was.  So  surely  as  every  other  woman  agreed  on 
a  dress,  a  recipe,  a  house,  anything  whatever,  so  surely 
Agatha  thought  out  and  followed  a  different  method, 
the  disconcerting  thing  about  her  being  that  she  usually 
finished  any  undertaking  with  less  exertion,  ahead  of  time, 
and  having  saved  considerable  money. 

She  could  have  written  a  fine  book  of  synonyms,  for 
as  certainly  as  any  one  said  anything  in  her  presence  that 
she  had  occasion  to  repeat,  she  changed  the  wording 
to  six-syllabled  mouthfuls,  delivered  with  ponderous 
circumlocution.     She    subscribed  to   papers  and  maga- 


2o  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

zines,    which    she    read    and    remembered.     And     she 
danced!    When    other    women    thought    even    a    waltz 
immoral  and  shocking;  perfectly  stiff,  her  curls  exactly 
in  place,  Agatha  could  be  seen,  and  frequently  was  seen 
waltzing  on  the  front  porch  in  the  arms  of,  and  to  a  tune 
whistled  by  young  Adam,  whose  full  name  was  Adam 
Alcibiades  Bates.     In  his  younger  days,  when  discipline 
had  been  required,  Kate  once  had  heard  her  say  to  the 
little  fellow:     "Adam  Alcibiades  ascend  these  steps  and 
proceed  immediately  to  your  maternal  ancestor." 
i     Kate  thought  of  this  with  a  dry  smile  as  she  plodded 
on  toward  Agatha's  home  hoping  she  could  see  her  brother 
at  the  barn,  but  she  knew  that  most  probably  she  would 
ascend  the  steps  and  proceed  to  the  maternal  ancestor  " 
of  Adam  Bates  3d.     Then  she  would  be  forced  to  explain 
her  visit  and  combat  both  Adam  and  his  wife;  for  Agatha 
was  not  a  nonentity  like  her  collection  of  healthful,  hard- 
working   sisters-in-law.     Agatha    worked    if   she    chose 
and  she  did  not  work  if  she  did  not  choose.     Mostly  she 
worked  and  worked  harder  than  any  one  ever  thought 
She  had  a  habit  of  keeping  her  house  always  immacu- 
late, finishing   her   cleaning  very  early  and  then   read- 
ing in  a  conspicuous  spot  on  the  veranda  when  other 
women  were  busy  with  their  most  tiresome  tasks.     Such 
was  Agatha,  whom  Kate  dreaded  meeting,  with  every 
reason,  for  Agatha,  despite  curls,  bony  structure,  language, 
and  dance,  was  the  most  powerful  factor  in  the  whole 
Bates   family   with    her   father-in-law;    and    all   because 
when   he   purchased    the    original    two    hundred    acres 


AN  EMBRYO  MIND  READER  21 

for  Adam,  and  made  the  first  allowance  for  buildings 
and  stock,  Agatha  slipped  the  money  from  Adam's 
fingers  in  some  inexplainable  way,  and  spent  it  all  for 
stock;  because  forsooth!  Agatha  was  an  only  child,  and 
her  prim  father  endowed  her,  she  said  so  herself,  with 
three  hundred  acres  of  land,  better  in  location  and  more 
fertile  than  that  given  to  Adam,  land  having  on  it  a 
roomy  and  comfortable  brick  house,  completely  furnished* 
a  large  barn  and  also  stock;  so  that  her  place  could  be  used 
to  live  on  and  farm,  while  Adam's  could  be  given  over  to 
grazing  herds  of  cattle  which  he  bought  cheaply,  fattened 
and  sold  at  the  top  of  the  market. 

If  each  had  brought  such  a  farm  into  the  family  with  her, 
father  Bates  could  have  endured  six  more  prim,  angular,  be- 
curled  daughters-in-law,  very  well  indeed,  for  land  was  h!  I 
one  and  only  God.  His  respect  for  Agatha  was  markedl  r 
very  high,  for  in  addition  to  her  farm  he  secretly  admired 
her  independence  of  thought  and  action,  and  was  amazed 
by  the  fact  that  she  was  about  her  work  when  several  of  the 
blooming  girls  he  had  selected  for  wives  for  his  sons  were 
confined  to  the  sofa  with  a  pain,  while  not  one  of  them 
schemed,  planned,  connived  with  her  husband  and  piled 
up  the  money  as  Agatha  did,  therefore  she  stood  at  the 
head  of  the  women  of  the  Bates  family;  while  she  was 
considered  to  have  worked  miracles  in  the  heart  of  Adam 
Bates,  for  with  his  exception  no  man  of  the  family  ever 
had  been  seen  to  touch  a  woman,  either  publicly  or  pri- 
vately, to  offer  the  slightest  form  of  endearment,  assis- 
tance or  courtesy.     "Women  are  to  work  and  to  bear 


22  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

children,"  said  the  elder  Bates.  "Put  them  at  the  first 
job  when  they  are  born,  and  at  the  second  at  eighteen, 
and  keep  them  hard  at  it." 

At  their  rate  of  progression  several  of  the  Bates 
sons  and  daughters  would  produce  families  that,  with  a 
couple  of  pairs  of  twins,  would  equal  the  sixteen  of  the 
elder  Bates;  but  not  so  Agatha.  She  had  one  son  of 
fifteen  and  one  daughter  of  ten,  and  she  said  that  was  all 
she  intended  to  have,  certainly  it  was  all  she  did  have; 
but  she  further  aggravated  matters  by  announcing  that 
she  had  had  them  because  she  wanted  them;  at  such  times 
as  she  intended  to;  and  that  she  had  the  boy  first  and 
five  years  the  older,  so  that  he  could  look  after  his  sister 
when  they  went  into  company.  Also  she  walked  up 
and  sat  upon  Adam's  lap  whenever  she  chose,  ruffled  his 
hair,  pulled  his  ears,  and  kissed  him  squarely  on  the 
mouth,  with  every  appearance  of  having  help,  while  the 
dance  on  the  front  porch  with  her  son  or  daughter  was  of 
daily  occurrence.  And  anything  funnier  than  Agatha, 
prim  and  angular  with  never  a  hair  out  of  place,  stiffly 
hopping  "Money  Musk"  and  "Turkey  In  The  Straw," 
or  the  "Blue  Danube  "waltz,  anything  funnier  than  that, 
never  happened.  But  the  two  Adams,  Jr.  and  3d, 
watched  with  reverent  and  adoring  eyes,  for  she  was 
Mother,  and  no  one  else  on  earth  rested  so  high  in  their 
respect  as  the  inflexible  woman  they  lived  with.  That 
she  was  different  from  all  the  other  women  of  her  time 
and  location  was  hard  on  the  other  women.  Had  they 
been  exactly  right,  they  would  have  been  exactly  like  her. 


AN  EMBRYO  MIND  READER  23 

So  Kate,  thinking  all  these  things  over,  her  own  prob- 
lem acutely  "advanced  and  proceeded."  She  advanced 
past  the  closed  barn,  and  stock  in  the  pasture,  past  the 
garden  flaming  June,  past  the  dooryard,  up  the  steps, 
down  the  hall,  into  the  screened  back  porch  dining  room 
and  "proceeded  "  to  take  a  chair,  while  the  family  finished 
the  Sunday  night  supper,  at  which  they  were  seated. 
Kate  was  not  hungry  and  she  did  not  wish  to  trouble  A 
her  sister-in-law  to  set  another  place,  so  she  took  the 
remaining  chair,  against  the  wall,  behind  Agatha,  facing; 
Adam,  3d,  across  the  table,  and  with  Adam,  Jr.,  in 
profile  at  the  head,  and  little  Susan  at  the  foot.  Then  she 
waited  her  chance.  Being  tired  and  aggressive  she  did 
not  wait  long. 

"I  might  as  well  tell  you  why  I  came,"  she  said  bluntly. 
"Father  won't  give  me  money  to  go  to  Normal,  as  he  has 
all  the  others.  He  says  I  have  got  to  stay  at  home  and 
help  Mother." 

"Well,  Mother  is  getting  so  old  she  needs  help,"  said 
Adam,  Jr.,  as  he  continued  his  supper. 

"Of  course  she  is,"  said  Kate.  "We  all  know  that. 
But  what  is  the  matter  with  Nancy  Ellen  helping  her, 
while  I  take  my  turn  at  Normal?  There  wasn't  a  thing 
I  could  do  last  summer  to  help  her  off  that  I  didn't  do, 
even  to  lending  her  my  best  dress  and  staying  at  home 
for  six  Sundays  because  I  had  nothing  else  fit  to  wear 
where  I'd  be  seen." 

No  one  said  a  word.     Kate  continued: 

"Then  Father  secured  our  home  school  for  her  and  I 


24  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

had  to  spend  the  winter  going  to  school  to  her,  when 
you  very  well  know  that  I  always  studied  harder,  and 
was  ahead  of  her,  even  after  she'd  been  to  Normal.  And 
I  got  up  early  and  worked  late,  and  cooked,  and  washed, 
and  waited  on  her,  while  she  got  her  lessons  and  reports 
ready,  and  fixed  up  her  nice  new  clothes,  and  now  she 
won't  touch  the  work,  and  she  is  doing  all  she  can  to  help 
Father  keep  me  from  going." 

"I  never  knew  Father  to  need  much  help  on  anything 
he  made  up  his  mind  to,"  said  Adam. 

Kate  sat  very  tense.  She  looked  steadily  at  her  brother, 
but  he  looked  quite  as  steadily  at  his  plate.  The  back 
of  her  sister-in-law  was  fully  as  expressive  as  her  face. 
Her  head  was  very  erect,  her  shoulders  stiff  and  still, 
not  a  curl  moved  as  she  poured  Adam's  tea  and  Susan's 
milk.  Only  Adam,  3d,  looked  at  Kate  with  compan- 
ionable eyes,  as  if  he  might  feel  a  slight  degree  of  interest 
or  sympathy,  so  she  found  herself  explaining  directly  to 
him. 

"Things  are  blame  unfair  in  our  family,  anyway!" 
she  said,  bitterly.  "You  have  got  to  be  born  a  boy  to 
have  any  chance  worth  while;  if  you  are  a  girl  it  is  mighty 
small,  and  if  you  are  the  youngest,  by  any  mischance, 
you  have  none  at  all.  I  don't  want  to  harp  things  over; 
but  I  wish  you  would  explain  to  me  why  having  been 
born  a  few  years  after  Nancy  Ellen  makes  me  her 
slave,  and  cuts  me  out  of  my  chance  to  teach,  and  to  have 
some  freedom  and  clothes.  They  might  as  well  have 
told  Hiram  he  was  not  to  have  any  land  and  stay  at  home 


AN  EMBRYO  MIND  READER  25 

and  help  Father  because  he  was  the  youngest  boy;  it 
would  have  been  quite  as  fair;  but  nothing  like  that 
happens  to  the  boys  of  this  family,  it  is  always  the  girls 
who  get  left.  I  have  worked  for  years,  knowing  every 
cent  I  saved  and  earned  above  barely  enough  to  cover  me, 
would  go  to  help  pay  for  Hiram's  land  and  house  and 
stock;  but  he  wouldn't  turn  a  hand  to  help  me,  neither 
will  any  of  the  rest  of  you." 

"Then  what  are  you  here  for?"  asked  Adam. 

"Because  I  am  going  to  give  you,  and  every  other 
brother  and  sister  I  have,  the  chance  to  refuse  to  loan  me 
enough  to  buy  a  few  clothes  and  pay  my  way  to  Normal, 
so  I  can  pass  the  examinations,  and  teach  this  fall.  And 
when  you  have  all  refused,  I  am  going  to  the  neighbours, 
until  I  find  someone  who  will  loan  me  the  money  I  need. 
A  hundred  dollars  would  be  plenty.  I  could  pay  it 
back  with  two  months'  teaching,  with  any  interest  you 
say." 

Kate  paused,  short  of  breath,  her  eyes  blazing,  her 
cheeks  red.  Adam  went  steadily  on  with  his  supper. 
Agatha  appeared  stiffer  and  more  uncompromising  in  the 
kback  than  before,  which  Kate  had  not  thought  possible. 
But  the  same  dull  red  on  the  girl's  cheeks  had  begun  to 
burn  on  the  face  of  young  Adam.  Suddenly  he  broke 
into  a  clear  laugh. 

"Oh,  Ma,  you're  too  funny!"  he  cried.  "I  can  read 
your  face  like  a  book.  I  bet  you  ten  dollars  I  can  tell 
you  just  word  for  word  what  you  are  going  to  say.  I 
dare  you  to  let  me!    You  know  I  can!" 


26  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

Still  laughing,  his  eyes  dancing,  a  picture  to  see,  he 
stretched  his  arm  across  the  table  toward  her,  and  his 
mother  adored  him,  however  she  strove  to  conceal  the 
tact  from  him. 

so"^01!^™    SHe   SC°ffed-      "men    m    ™   b~ 

so  wealthy?  I'll  glve  you  one  dollar  if  you  tell  me 
exactly  what  I  was  going  to  say." 

The  boy  glanced  at  his  father.     "Oh  this  is  too  easy!" 
he  cried        It's  like  robbing  the  baby's  bank!"    And 
then  to  his  mother:    "You  were  just  opening  your  lips 
to  say:     G,ve  tt  to  her!    If  you  don't,  I  will!'    And 
you  are  even  a  little  bit  more  of  a  brick  than  usual  to  do  it. 
It  s  a  darned  shame  the  way  all  of  them  impose  on  Kate  " 
1  here  was  a  complete  change  in  Agatha's  back.    Adam 
Jr.,  laid  down  his  fork  and  stared  at  his  wife  in  deep 
amazement.      Adam,    3d,    stretched    his    hand    farther 
toward  his  mother.     "Give  me  that  dollar!"  he  cajoled. 

Well,  1  am  not  concealing  it  in  the  sleeve  of  my  gar- 
ments, she  said.  "If  I  have  one,  it  is  reposing  in  my 
purse,  m  juxtaposition  to  the  other  articles  that  belong 
there  and  ,f  you  receive  it,  it  will  be  bestowed  upon  you 
when  I  deem  the  occasion  suitable." 

.uYTH g  ,^am'S  fi"  Came  down  with  a  ^h.  "I  get 
thedollat!  hetriumphed.  "lloldyouso!  IWshewas 
going  to  say  it!  Ain't  I  a  dandy  mind  reader  though? 
But  it  is  bully  for  you,"  Father,  becaure  of  course,  if 
Mother  wouldn't  let  Kate  have  it,  you'd  have  to;  but  if 
you iM  it  might  make  trouble  with  your  paternal  land- 
grabber,  and  endanger  your  precious  deed  that  you  hope 


AN  EMBRYO  MIND  READER  27 

to  get  in  the  sweet  by-and-by.  But  if  Mother  loans  the 
money,  Grandfather  can't  say  a  word,  because  it  is  her 
very  own,  and  didn't  cost  him  anything,  and  he  always 
agrees  with  her  anyway!  Hurrah  for  hurrah,  Kate! 
Nancy  Ellen  may  wash  her  own  petticoat  in  the  morning, 
while  I  take  you  to  the  train.  You'll  let  me,  Father? 
You  did  let  me  go  to  Hartley  alone,  once.  I'll  be  careful! 
I  won't  let  a  thing  happen.  I'll  come  straight  home. 
And  oh,  my  dollar,  you  and  me;  I'll  put  you  in  the  bank 
and  let  you  grow  to  three!" 

"You  may  go,"  said  his  father,  promptly. 

"You  shall  proceed  according  to  your  Aunt  Katherine's 
instructions,"  said  his  mother,  at  the  same  time. 

"Katie,  get  your  carpet-sack!  When  do  we  start?" 
demanded  young  Adam. 

"Morning  will  be  all  right  with  me,  you  blessed 
youngun,"  said  Kate,  "but  I  don't  own  a  telescope  or 
anything  to  put  what  little  I  have  in,  and  Nancy  Ellen 
never  would  spare  hers;  she  will  want  to  go  to  County 
Institute  before  I  get  back." 

"You  may  have  mine,"  said  Agatha.  "You  are  per- 
fectly welcome  to  take  it  wherever  your  peregrinations 
lead  you,  and  return  it  when  you  please.  I  shall  proceed 
to  my  chamber  and  formulate  your  check  immediately. 
You  are  also  welcome  to  my  best  hat  and  cape,  and  any 
of  my  clothing  or  personal  adornments  you  can  use  to 
advantage." 

"Oh,  Agatha,  I  wish  you  were  as  big  as  a  house,  like 
me,"  said   Kate,  joyfully.     "I  couldn't  possibly  crowd 


28  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

into  anything  you  wear,  but  it  would  almost  tickle  me 
to  death  to  have  Nancy  Ellen  know  you  let  me  take  your 
things,  when  she  won't  even  offer  me  a  dud  of  her  old 
stuff;  I  never  remotely  hoped  for  any  of  the  new." 

"You  shall  have  my  cape  and  hat,  anyway.  The  cape 
is  new  and  very  fashionable.  Come  upstairs  and  try 
the  hat,"  said  Agatha. 

The  cape  was  new  and  fashionable  as  Agatha  had  said; 
it  would  not  fasten  at  the  neck,  but  there  would  be  no 
necessity  that  it  should  during  July  and  August,  while  it 
would  improve  any  dress  it  was  worn  with  on  a  cool  even- 
ing.    The  hat  Kate  could  not  possibly  use  with  her  large, 
broad  face  and  mass  of  hair,  but  she  was  almost  as  pleased 
with  the  offer  as  if  the  hat  had  been  most  becoming. 
Then  Agatha  brought  out  her  telescope,  in  which  Kate  laid 
the  cape  while  Agatha  wrote  her  a  check  for  one  hundred 
and  twenty  dollars,  and  told  her  where  and  how  to  cash  it. 
The  extra  twenty  was  to  buy  a  pair  of  new  walking  shoes, 
some  hose,  and  a  hat,  before  she  went  to  her  train.     When 
they  went   downstairs  Adam,  Jr.,  had    a  horse  hitched 
and  Adam,  3d,  drove  her  to  her  home,  where,   at  the 
foot  of  the  garden,  they  took  one  long  survey  of  the  land- 
scape and  hid  the  telescope  behind  the  privet  bush.     Then 
Adam  drove  away  quietly,  Kate  entered  the  dooryard 
from  the  garden,  and  soon  afterward  went  to  the  wash 
room  and  hastily  ironed  her  clothing. 

Nancy  Ellen  had  gone  to  visit  a  neighbour  girl,  so 
Kate  risked  her  remaining  until  after  church  in  the 
evening.     She  hurried   to   their  room   and   mended    all 


AN  EMBRYO  MIND  READER  29 

her  own  clothing  she  had  laid  out.  Then  she  deliber- 
ately went  over  Nancy  Ellen's  and  helped  herself  to  a  pair 
of  pretty  nightdresses,  such  as  she  had  never  owned,  a 
white  embroidered  petticoat,  the  second  best  white  dress, 
and  a  most  becoming  sailor  hat.  These  she  made  into  a 
parcel  and  carried  to  the  wash  room,  brought  in  the 
telescope  and  packed  it,  hiding  it  under  a  workbench  and 
covering  it  with  shavings.  After  that  she  went  to  her 
room  and  wrote  a  note,  and  then  slept  deeply  until  the 
morning  call.  She  arose  at  once  and  went  to  the  wash 
room  but  instead  of  washing  the  family  clothing,  she  took 
a  bath  in  the  largest  tub,  and  washed  her  hair  to  a  state 
resembling  spun  gold.  During  breakfast  she  kept  sharp 
watch  down  the  road.  When  she  saw  Adam,  3d, 
coming  she  stuck  her  note  under  the  hook  on  which  she 
had  seen  her  father  hang  his  hat  all  her  life,  and  carrying 
the  telescope  in  the  clothes  basket  covered  with  a  rumpled 
sheet,  she  passed  across  the  yard  and  handed  it  over  the 
fence  to  Adam,  climbed  that  same  fence,  and  they  started 
toward  Hartley. 

Kate  put  the  sailor  hat  on  her  head,  and  sat  very- 
straight,  an  anxious  line  crossing  her  forehead.  She  was 
running  away,  and  if  discovered,  there  was  the  barest 
chance  that  her  father  might  follow,  and  make  a  most  dis- 
agreeable scene,  before  the  train  pulled  out.  He  had  gone 
to  a  far  field  to  plow  corn  and  Kate  fervently  hoped  he 
would  plow  until  noon,  which  he  did.  Nancy  Ellen 
washed  the  dishes,  and  went  into  the  front  room  to  study, 
while  Mrs.  Bates  put  on  her  sunbonnet  and  began  hoeing 


3o  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

the  potatoes.  Not  one  of  the  family  noticed  that  Mon- 
day's wash  was  not  on  the  clothes  line  as  usual.  Kate 
and  Adam  drove  as  fast  as  they  dared,  and  on  reaching 
town,  cashed  the  check,  decided  that  Nancy  Ellen's 
hat  would  serve,  thus  saving  the  price  of  a  new  one 
for  emergencies  that  might  arise,  bought  the  shoes,  and 
went  to  the  depot,  where  they  had  an  anxious  hour  to 
wait. 

"I  expect  Grandpa  will  be  pretty  mad,"  said  Adam. 

"I  am  sure  there  is  not  the  slightest  chance  but  that 
he  will  be,"  said  Kate. 

"  Dare  you  goback  home  when  school  is  over?"  he  asked. 

"Probably  not,"  she  answered. 

"What  will  you  do?"  he  questioned. 

"When  I  investigated  sister  Nancy  Ellen's  bureau  I 
found  a  list  of  the  School  Supervisors  of  the  county,  so 
I  am  going  to  put  in  my  spare  time  writing  them  about 
my  qualifications  to  teach  their  schools  this  winter.  All 
the  other  girls  did  well  and  taught  first-class  schools,  I 
shall  also.  I  am  not  a  bit  afraid  but  that  I  may  take  my 
choice  of  several.  When  I  finish  it  will  be  only  a  few  days 
until  school  begins,  so  I  can  go  hunt  my  boarding  place 
and  stay  there." 

"Mother  would  let  you  stay  at  our  house,"  said  Adam. 

"Yes,  I  think  she  would,  after  yesterday;  but  I  don't 
want  to  make  trouble  that  might  extend  to  Father  and 
your  father.     I  had  better  keep  away." 

"Yes,  I  guess  you  had,"  said  Adam.  "If  Grandfather 
rows,  he  raises  a  racket.     But  maybe  he  won't!" 


AN  EMBRYO  MIND  READER  31 

"Maybe!  Wouldn't  you  like  to  see  what  happens 
when  Mother  comes  in  from  the  potatoes  and  Nancy 
Ellen  comes  out  from  the  living  room,  and  Father  comes 
to  dinner,  all  about  the  same  time?" 

Adam  laughed  appreciatively. 

"Wouldn't  I  just!"  he  cried.  "Kate,  you  like  my 
mother,  don't  you?" 

"I  certainly  do!  She  has  been  splendid.  I  never 
dreamed  of  such  a  thing  as  getting  the  money  from  her." 

"I  didn't  either,"  said  Adam,  "until — I  became  a  mind 
reader." 

Kate  looked  straight  into  his  eyes. 

"How  about  that,  Adam?"  she  asked. 

Adam  chuckled.  "She  didn't  intend  to  say  a  word. 
She  was  going  to  let  the  Bateses  fight  it  out  among  them- 
selves. Her  mouth  was  shut  so  tight  it  didn't  look  as  if 
she  could  open  it  if  she  wanted  to.  I  thought  it  would  be 
better  for  you  to  borrow  the  money  from  her,  so  Father 
wouldn't  get  into  a  mess,  and  I  knew  how  fine  she  was, 
so  I  just  suggested  it  to  her.     That's  all!" 

"Adam,  you're  a  dandy!"  cried  Kate. 

"I  am  having  a  whole  buggy  load  of  fun,  and  you 
ought  to  go,"  said  he.  "It's  all  right!  Don't  you  worry! 
I'll  take  care  of  you." 

"Why,  thank  you,  Adam!"  said  Kate.  "That  is  the 
first  time  any  one  ever  offered  to  take  care  of  me  in  "my 
life.  With  me  it  always  has  been  pretty  much  of  a  'go-it- 
alone'  proposition." 

"What  of  Nancy  Ellen's  did   yon   take?"  he  asked. 


32  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

"Why  didn't  you  get  some  gloves?  Your  hands  are  so 
red  and  work-worn.     Mother's  never  look  that  way." 

"Your  mother  never  has  done  the  rough  field  work 
I  do,  and  I  haven't  taken  time  to  be  careful.  They  do 
look  badly.  I  wish  I  had  taken  a  pair  of  the  lady's 
gloves;  but  I  doubt  if  she  would  have  survived  that.  .  I 
understand  that  one  of  the  unpardonable  sins  is  putting 
on  gloves  belonging  to  any  one  else." 

Then  the  train  came  and  Kate  climbed  aboard  with 
Adam's  parting  injunction  in  her  ears:  "Sit  beside  an 
open  window  on  this  side!" 

So  she  looked  for  and  found  the  window  and  as  she 
seated  herself  she  saw  Adam  on  the  outside  and  leaned 
to  speak  to  him  again.  Just  as  the  train  started  he 
thrust  his  hand  inside,  dropped  his  dollar  in  her  lap,  and 
in  a  tense  whisper  commanded  her:  "Get  yourself 
some  gloves!"     Then  he  ran. 

Kate  picked  up  the  dollar,  while  her  eyes  dimmed  with 
tears. 

"Why,  the  fine  youngster!"  she  said.  "The  Jim-dandy 
fine  youngster!" 

Adam  could  not  remember  when  he  ever  had  been  so 
happy  as  he  was  driving  home.  He  found  his  mother 
dinging,  his  father  in  a  genial  mood,  so  he  concluded 
that  the  greatest  thing  in  the  world  to  make  a  whole 
family  happy  was  to  do  something  kind  for  someone  else. 
But  he  reflected  that  there  would  be  far  from  a  happy 
family  at  his  grandfather's;  and  he  was  right.  Grand- 
mother Bates  came  in  from  her  hoeing  at  eleven  o'clock 


AN  EMBRYO  MIND  READER  33 

tired  and  hungry,  expecting  to  find  the  wash  dry  and 
dinner  almost  ready.  There  was  no  wash  and  no  odour 
of  food.  She  went  to  the  wood-shed  and  stared  unbe- 
lievingly at  the  cold  stove,  the  tubs  of  soaking  clothes. 

She  turned  and  went  into  the  kitchen,  where  she  saw 
no  signs  of  Kate  or  of  dinner,  then  she  lifted  up  her  voice 
and  shouted:  "Nancy  Ellen!" 

Nancy  Ellen  came  in  a  hurry.  "Why,  Mother,  what 
is  the  matter?"  she  cried. 

"Matter,  yourself!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Bates.  "Look 
in  the  wash  room!  Why  aren't  the  clothes  on  the  line? 
Where  is  that  good-for-nothing  Kate?" 

Nancy  Ellen  went  to  the  wash  room  and  looked.  She 
came  back  pale  and  amazed.  "Maybe  she  is  sick,"  she 
ventured.  "She  never  has  been;  but  she  might  be! 
Maybe  she  has  lain  down." 

"On  Monday  morning!  And  the  wash  not  out!  You 
simpleton!"  cried  Mrs.  Bates. 

Nancy  Ellen  hurried  upstairs  and  came  back  with 
bulging  eyes. 

"  Every  scrap  of  her  clothing  is  gone,  and  half  of  mine ! " 

"She's  gone  to  that  fool  normal-thing!  Where  did 
she  get  the  money?"  cried  Mrs.  Bates. 

"I  don't  know!"  said  Nancy  Ellen.  "She  asked  me 
yesterday,  but  of  course  I  told  her  that  so  long  as  you  and 
Father  decided  she  was  not  to  go,  I  couldn't  possibly 
lend  her  the  money." 

"Did  you  look  if  she  had  taken  it?" 

Nancy  Ellen  straightened- 


34  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

"Mother!     I  didn't  need  do  that!" 

"You  said  she  took  your  clothes,"  said  Mrs.  Bates. 

"I  had  hers  this  time  last  year.  She'll  bring  bad;, 
clothes." 

"Not  here,  she  won't!  Father  will  see  that  she  never 
darkens  these  doors  again.  This  is  the  first  time  in  his 
life  that  a  child  of  his  has  disobeyed  him." 

"Except  Adam,  when  he  married  Agatha;  and  he 
strutted  like  a  fighting  cock  about  that." 

"Well,  he  won't  'strut'  about  this,  and  you  won't  either, 
even  if  you  are  showing  signs  of  standing  up  for  her.  Go 
at  that  wash,  while  I  get  dinner." 

Dinner  was  on  the  table  when  Adam  Bates  hung  his 
hat  on  its  hook  and  saw  the  note  for  him.  He  took  it 
down   and   read : 

Father:  I  have  gone  to  Normal.  I  borrowed  the  money  of  a 
woman  who  was  willing  to  trust  me  to  pay  it  back  as  soon  as  I  earned 
it.  Not  Nancy  Ellen,  of  course.  She  would  not  even  loan  me  a  pocket 
handkerchief,  though  you  remember  I  stayed  at  home  six  weeks  last 
summer  to  let  her  take  what  she  wanted  of  mine.  Mother:  I  think 
you  can  get  Sally  Whistler  to  help  you  as  cheaply  as  any  one  and  that 
she  will  do  very  well.  Nancy  Ellen:  I  have  taken  your  second  best 
hat  and  a  few  of  your  things,  but  not  half  so  many  as  I  loaned  you. 
I  hope  it  makes  you  mad  enough  to  burst.  I  hope  you  get  as  mad  and 
stay  as  mad  as  I  have  been  most  of  this  year  while  you  taught  me 
things  you  didn't  know  yourself;  and  I  cooked  and  washed  for  you  so 
you  could  wear  fine  clothe*  and  play  the  lady.  Kate. 

Adam  Bates  read  that  note  to  himself,  stretching  every 
inch  of  his  six  feet  six,  his  face  a  dull  red,  his  eyes  glaring. 
Then  he  turned  to  his  wife  and  daughter. 


AN  EMBRYO  MIND  READER  35 

"Is  Kate  gone?  Without  proper  clothing,  and  on  bor- 
rowed money,"  he  demanded. 

"I  don't  know,"  said  Mrs.  Bates.  "I  was  hoeing 
potatoes  all  forenoon." 

"Listen  to  this,"  he  thundered.  Then  he  slowly  read 
the  note  aloud.  But  someway  the  spoken  words  did  not 
have  the  same  effect  as  when  he  read  them  mentally  in 
the  first  shock  of  anger.  When  he  heard  his  own  voice 
read  off"  the  line,  "I  hope  it  makes  you  mad  enough  to 
burst,"  there  was  a  catch  and  a  queer  gurgle  in  his  throat. 
Mrs.  Bates  gazed  at  him  anxiously.  Was  he  so  sur- 
prised and  angry  he  was  choking?  Might  it  be  a  stroke? 
It  was!  It  was  a  master  stroke.  He  got  no  farther  than 
"taught  me  things  you  didn't  know  yourself,"  when  he 
lowered  the  sheet,  threw  back  his  head  and  laughed  as 
none  of  his  family  ever  had  seen  him  laugh  in  his  life; 
laughed  and  laughed  until  his  frame  was  shaken  and  the 
tears  rolled.  Finally  he  looked  at  the  dazed  Nancy  Ellen. 
"Get  Sally  Whistler,  nothing!"  he  said.  "You  hustle 
your  stumps  and  do  for  your  mother  what  Kate  did 
while  you  were  away  last  summer.  And  if  you  have 
any  common  decency  send  your  sister  as  many  of  your 
best  things  as  you  had  of  hers,  at  least.  Do  you  hear 
me?" 


CHAPTER   III 

Peregrinations 

PEREGRINATIONS,"  laughed  Kate,  turning  to 
the  window  to  hide  her  face.  "Oh,  Agatha,  you 
are  a  dear,  but  you  are  too  funny !  Even  a  Fourth 
of  July  orator  would  not  have  used  that  word.  I  never 
heard  it  before  in  all  my  life  outside  spelling-school." 
.  Then  she  looked  at  the  dollar  she  was  gripping  and 
ceased  to  laugh. 

"The  dear  lad,"  she  whispered.  "He  did  the  whole 
thing.  She  was  going  to  let  us  'fight  it  out';  I  could  tell 
by  her  back,  and  Adam  wouldn't  have  helped  me  a  cent, 
quite  as  much  because  he  didn't  want  to  as  because 
Father  wouldn't  have  liked  it.  Fancy  the  little  chap 
knowing  he  can  wheedle  his  mother  into  anything,  and 
exactly  how  to  go  about  it!  I  won't  spend  a  penny  on 
myself  until  she  is  paid,  and  then  I'll  make  her  a  present 
of  something  nice,  just  to  let  her  and  Nancy  Ellen  see 
that  I  appreciate  being  helped  to  my  chance,  for  I  had 
reached  that  point  where  I  would  have  walked  to  school 
and  worked  in  somebody's  kitchen,  before  I'd  have 
missed  my  opportunity.  I  could  have  done  it;  but  this 
will  be  far  pleasanter  and  give  me  a  much  better  showing." 

Then  Kate  began  watching  the  people  in  the  car  with 

36 


PEREGRINATIONS  37 

eager  curiosity,  for  she  had  been  on  a  train  only  twice 
before  in  her  life.  She  decided  that  she  was  in  a  com- 
pany of  young  people  and  some  even  of  middle  age, 
going  to  Normal.  She  also  noticed  that  most  of  them 
were  looking  at  her  with  probably  the  same  interest  she 
found  in  them.  Then  at  one  of  the  stations  a  girl  asked  to 
sit  with  her  and  explained  that  she  was  going  to  Normal, 
so  Kate  said  she  was  also.  The  girl  seemed  to  have  several 
acquaintances  on  the  car,  for  she  left  her  seat  to  speak  with 
them  and  when  the  train  stopped  at  a  very  pleasant  city 
and  the  car  began  to  empty  itself,  on  the  platform  Kate 
was  introduced  by  this  girl  to  several  young  women  and 
men  near  her  age.  A  party  of  four,  going  to  board  close 
the  school,  with  a  woman  they  knew  about,  invited 
Kate  to  go  with  them  and  because  she  was  strange  and 
shaken  by  her  experiences  she  agreed.  All  of  them 
piled  their  luggage  on  a  wagon  to  be  delivered,  so  Kate 
let  hers  go  also.  Then  they  walked  down  a  long  shady 
street,  and  entered  a  dainty  and  comfortable  residence, 
a  place  that  seemed  to  Kate  to  be  the  home  of  people 
of  wealth.  She  was  assigned  a  room  with  another  girl, 
such  a  pleasant  girl;  but  a  vague  uneasiness  had  begun 
to  make  itself  felt,  so  before  she  unpacked  she  went  back 
to  the  sitting  room  and  learned  that  the  price  of  board 
was  eight  dollars  a  week.  Forty-eight  dollars  for  six 
weeks!  She  would  not  have  enough  for  books  and  tui- 
tion. Besides,  Nancy  Ellen  had  boarded  with  a  family 
on  Butler  Street  whose  charge  was  only  five-fifty.  Kate 
was  eager  to  stay  where  these  very  agreeable  young  people 


38  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

did,  she  imagined  herself  going  to  classes  with  them  and 
having  association  that  to  her  would  be  a  great  treat, 
but  she  never  would  dare  ask  for  more  money.  She 
thought  swiftly  a  minute,  and  then  made  her  first  mistake. 

Instead  of  going  to  the  other  girls  and  frankly  confessing 
that  she  could  not  afford  the  prices  they  were  paying,  she 
watched  her  chance,  picked  up  her  telescope  and  hurried 
down  the  street,  walking  swiftly  until  she  was  out  of  sight 
of  the  house.  Then  she  began  inquiring  her  way  to 
Butler  Street  and  after  a  long,  hot  walk,  found  the  place. 
The  rooms  and  board  were  very  poor,  but  Kate  felt  that 
she  could  endure  whatever  Nancy  Ellen  had,  so  she 
unpacked,  and  went  to  the  Normal  School  to  register 
and  learn  what  she  would  need.  On  coming  from  the 
building  she  saw  that  she  would  be  forced  to  pass  close 
by  the  group  of  girls  she  had  deserted  and  this  was  made 
doubly  difficult  because  she  could  see  that  they  were 
talking  about  her.  Then  she  understood  how  foolish  she 
had  been  and  as  she  was  struggling  to  summon  courage 
to  explain  to  them  she  caught  these  words  plainly: 

"Who  is  going  to  ask  her  for  it?" 

"I  am,"  said  the  girl  who  had  sat  beside  Kate  on  the 
train.     "I  don't  propose  to  pay  it  myself!" 

Then  she  came  directly  to  Kate  and  said  briefly: 
"Fifty  cents,  please!" 

"For  what?"  stammered  Kate. 

"Your  luggage.  You  changed  your  boarding  place  in 
such  a  hurry  you  forgot  to  settle,  and  as  I  made  the 
arrangement,  I  had  to  pay  it." 


PEREGRINATIONS  39 

"Do  please  excuse  me,"  said  Kate.  "I  was  so  be- 
wildered, I  forgot." 

"Certainly!"  said  the  girl  and  Kate  dropped  the  money 
into  the  extended  hand  and  hurried  past,  her  face  scorched 
red  with  shame,  for  one  of  them  had  said :  "That's  a  good 
one!     I  wouldn't  have  thought  it  of  her." 

Kate  went  back  to  her  hot,  stuffy  room  and  tried 
to  study,  but  she  succeeded  only  in  being  miserable,  for 
she  realized  that  she  had  lost  her  second  chance  to  have 
either  companions  or  friends,  by  not  saying  the  few  words 
of  explanation  that  would  have  righted  her  in  the  opinion 
of  those  she  would  meet  each  day  for  six  weeks.  It  was 
not  a  good  beginning,  while  the  end  was  what  might 
have  been  expected.  A  young  man  from  her  neighbour- 
hood spoke  to  her  and  the  girls  seeing,  asked  him  about 
Kate,  learning  thereby  that  her  father  was  worth  more 
money  than  all  of  theirs  put  together.  Some  of  them  had 
accepted  the  explanation  that  Kate  was  "bewildered" 
and  had  acted  hastily;  but  when  the  young  man  finished 
Bates  history,  they  merely  thought  her  mean,  and  left 
her  severely  to  herself,  so  her  only  recourse  was  to  study 
so  diligently  and  recite  so  perfectly  that  none  of  them 
could  equal  her,  and  this  she  did. 

In  acute  discomfort  and  with  a  sore  heart,  Kate 
passed  her  first  six  weeks  away  from  home.  She  wrote 
to  each  man  on  the  list  of  school  directors  she  had  taken 
from  Nancy  Ellen's  desk.  Some  answered  that  they  had 
their  teachers  already  engaged,  others  made  no  reply. 
One  bright  spot  was  the  receipt  of  a  letter  from  Nancy 


4o  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

Ellen  saying  she  was  sending  her  best  dress,  to  be  venj 
careful  of  it,  and  if  Kate  would  let  her  know  the  day  sh< 
would  be  home  she  would  meet  her  at  the  station.  Katt 
sent  her  thanks,  wore  the  dress  to  two  lectures,  and  wrote 
the  letter  telling  when  she  would  return. 

As  the  time  drew  nearer  she  became  sickeningly  anxious 
about  a  school.  What  if  she  failed  in  securing  one  ? 
What  if  she  could  not  pay  back  Agatha's  money?  What 
if  she  had  taken  "the  wings  of  morning,"  and  fallen  in  her 
flight?  In  desperation  she  went  to  the  Superintendent 
of  the  Normal  and  told  him  her  trouble.  He  wrote  her  a 
fine  letter  of  recommendation  and  she  sent  it  to  one  of 
the  men  from  whom  she  had  not  heard,  the  director  of  a 
school  in  the  village  of  Walden,  seven  miles  east  of  Hart- 
ley, being  seventeen  miles  from  her  home,  thus  seeming 
to  Kate  a  desirable  location,  also  she  knew  the  village  to 
be  pretty  and  the  school  one  that  paid  well.  Then  she 
finished  her  work  the  best  she  could,  and  disappointed  and 
anxious,  entered  the  train  for  home. 

When  the  engine  whistled  at  the  bridge  outside  Hartley 
Kate  arose,  lifted  her  telescope  from  the  rack  overhead, 
and  made  her  way  to  the  door,  so  that  she  was  the  first 
person  to  leave  the  car  when  it  stopped.  As  she  stepped 
to  the  platform  she  had  a  distinct  shock,  for  her  father 
reached  for  the  telescope,  while  his  greeting  and  his  face 
were  decidedly  friendly,  for  him.  As  they  walked  down 
the  street  Kate  was  trying  wildly  to  think  of  the  best 
thing  to  say  when  he  asked  if  she  had  a  school.  But  he 
did  not  ask.     Then  she  saw  in  the  pocket  of  his  light 


PEREGRINATIONS  41 

summer  coat  a  packet  of  letters  folded  inside  a  newspaper, 
and  there  was  one  long,  official-looking  envelope  that  stood 
above  the  others  far  enough  that  she  could  see  "Miss 
K — "  of  the  address.  Instantly  she  decided  that  it  was 
her  answer  from  the  School  Director  of  Walden  and  she 
was  tremblingly  eager  to  see  it.  She  thought  an  instant 
and  then  asked:     "Have  you  been  to  the  post  office?" 

"Yes,  I  got  the  mail,"  he  answered. 

"Will  you  please  see  if  there  are  any  letters  for  me?" 
she  asked. 

"When  we  get  home,"  he  said.  "I  am  in  a  hurry  now. 
Here's  a  list  of  things  Ma  wants,  and  don't  be  all  day 
about  getting  them." 

Kate's  lips  closed  to  a  thin  line  and  her  eyes  began  to 
grow  steel  coloured  and  big.  She  dragged  back  a  step 
and  looked  at  the  loosely  swaying  pocket  again.  She 
thought  intently  a  second.  As  they  passed  several 
people  on  the  walk  she  stepped  back  of  her  father  and 
gently  raised  the  letter  enough  to  see  that  the  address 
was  to  her.  Instantly  she  lifted  it  from  the  others,  slipped 
it  up  her  dress  sleeve,  and  again  took  her  place  beside  her 
father  until  they  reached  the  store  where  her  mother  did 
her  shopping.  Then  he  waited  outside  while  Kate  hur- 
ried in,  and  ripping  open  the  letter,  found  a  contract  ready 
for  her  to  sign  for  the  Walden  school.  The  salary  was 
twenty  dollars  a  month  more  than  Nancy  Ellen  had 
received  for  their  country  school  the  previous  winter  and 
the  term  four  months  longer. 

Kate  was  so  delighted  she  could  have  shouted.     In- 


42  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

stead  she  went  with  all  speed  to  the  stationery  counter 
and  bought  an  envelope  to  fit  the  contract,  which  she 
signed,  and  writing  a  hasty  note  of  thanks  she  mailed  the 
letter  in  the  store  mail  box,  then    began    her  mother's 
purchases.     This  took  so  much  time  that  her  father  came 
into  the  store  before  she  had  finished,  demanding  that  she 
hurry,  so  in  feverish  haste  she  bought  what  was  wanted 
and  followed  to  the  buggy.     On  the  road  home  she  began 
to  study  her  father;  she  could  see  that  he  was  well  pleased 
over  something  but  she  had  no  idea  what  could  have  hap- 
pened; she  had  expected  anything  from  verbal  wrath  to 
the  buggy  whip,  so  she  was  surprised,  but  so  happy  over 
having  secured  such  a  good  school,  at  higher  wages  than 
Nancy  Ellen's,  that  she  spent  most  of  her  time  thinking  of 
herself  and  planning  as  to  when  she  would  go  to  Walden, 
where  she  would  stay,  how  she  would  teach,  and  Oh,  bliss 
unspeakable,  what  she  would  do  with  so  much  money;  for 
two  months'  pay  would  more  than  wipe  out  her  indebted- 
ness to  Agatha,  and  by  getting  the  very  cheapest  board 
she  could  endure,  after  that  she  would  have  over  three 
fourths  of  her  money  to  spend  each  month  for  books  and 
clothes.     She  was  intently  engaged  with  her  side  of  the 
closet  and  her  end  of  the  bureau,  when  she  had  her  first 
glimpse  of  home;  even  preoccupied  as  she  was,  she  saw 
a  difference.     Several  loose  pickets  in  the  fence  had  been 
nailed  in  place.     The  lilac  beside  the  door  and  the  cab- 
bage roses  had  been  trimmed,  so  that  they  did  not  drag 
over  the  walk,  while  the  yard  had  been  gone  over  with  a 
lawn-mower. 


PEREGRINATIONS  43 

Kate  turned  to  her  father.  "Well,  for  land's  sake!" 
she  said.  "I  wanted  a  lawn-mower  all  last  summer,  and 
you  wouldn't  buy  it  for  me.  I  wonder  why  you  got  it  the 
minute  I  was  gone." 

"I  got  it  because  Nancy  Ellen  especially  wanted  it, 
and  she  has  been  a  mighty  good  girl  all  summer,"  he  said. 

"If  that  is  the  case,  then  she  should  be  rewarded  with 
the  privilege  of  running  a  lawn-mower,"  said  Kate. 

Her  father  looked  at  her  sharply;  but  her  face  was  so 
pleasant  he  decided  she  did  not  intend  to  be  saucy,  so 
he  said:  "No  doubt  she  will  be  willing  to  let  you  help 
her  all  you  want  to." 

"Not  the  ghost  of  a  doubt  about  that,"  laughed  Kate, 
"and  I  always  wanted  to  try  running  one,  too.  They 
look  so  nice  in  pictures,  and  how  one  improves  a  place!  I 
hardly  know  this  is  home.  Now  if  we  only  had  a  fresh  coat 
of  white  paint  we  could  line  up  with  the  neighbours." 

"I  have  been  thinking  about  that,"  said  Mr.  Bates,, 
and  Kate  glanced  at  him,  doubting  her  hearing. 

He  noticed  her  surprise  and  added  in  explanation: 
"Paint  every  so  often  saves  a  building.  It's  good  econ- 
omy." 

"Then  let's  economize  immediately,"  said  Kate. 
"And  on  the  barn,  too.  It  is  even  more  weather-beaten 
than  the  house." 

"I'll  see  about  it  the  next  time  I  go  to  town,"  said  Mr. 
Bates;  so  Kate  entered  the  house  prepared  for  anything 
and  wondering  what  it  all  meant  for  wherever  she  looked 
everything  was  shining  the  brightest  that  scrubbing  and 


44  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

scouring  could  make  it  shine,  the  best  of  everything  was 
out  and  in  use;  not  that  it  was  much,  but  it  made  a  notice- 
able difference.  Her  mother  greeted  her  pleasantly,  with 
a  new  tone  of  voice,  while  Nancy  Ellen  was  transformed. 
Kate  noticed  that,  immediately.  She  always  had  been 
a  pretty  girl,  now  she  was  beautiful,  radiantly  beautiful, 
with  a  new  shining  beauty  that  dazzled  Kate  as  she  looked 
at  her.  No  one  offered  any  explanation  while  Kate  could 
see  none.  At  last  she  asked:  "What  on  earth  has  hap- 
pened?    I  don't  understand." 

"Of  course  you  don't,"  laughed  Nancy  Ellen.  "You 
thought  you  ran  the  whole  place  and  did  everything  your- 
self, so  I  thought  I'd  just  show  you  how  things  look  when 
I  run  them." 

"You  are  a  top-notcher,"  said  Kate.  "Figuratively 
and  literally,  I  offer  you  the  palm.  Let  the  good  work 
go  on!  I  highly  approve;  but  I  don't  see  how  you 
found  time  to  do  all  this  and  go  to  Institute." 

"I  didn't  go  to  Institute,"  said  Nancy  Ellen. 

"You  didn't!     But  you  must!"  cried  Kate. 

"Oh  must  I?  Well,  since  you  have  decided  to  run  your 
affairs  as  you  please,  in  spite  of  all  of  us,  just  suppose 
you  let  me  run  mine  the  same  way.  Only,  I  rather  enjoy 
having  Father  and  Mother  approve  of  what  I  do." 

Kate  climbed  the  stairs  with  this  to  digest  as  she  went; 
so  while  she  put  away  her  clothing  she  thought  things 
over,  but  saw  no  light.  She  would  go  to  Adam's  to  return 
the  telescope  to-morrow,  possibly  he  could  tell  her. 
As  she  hung  her  dresses  in  the  closet  and  returned  Nancy 


PEREGRINATIONS  45 

Ellen's  to  their  places  she  was  still  more  amazed,  for  there 
hung  three  pretty  new  wash  dresses,  one  of  a  rosy  pink 
that  would  make  Nancy  Ellen  appear  very  lovely. 

What  was  the  reason,  Kate  wondered.  The  Bates 
family  never  did  anything  unless  there  was  some  purpose 
in  it,  what  was  the  purpose  in  this?  And  Nancy  Ellen 
had  not  gone  to  Institute.  She  evidently  had  worked 
constantly  and  hard,  yet  she  was  in  much  sweeter  frame 
of  mind  than  usual.  She  must  have  spent  almost 
all  she  had  saved  from  her  school  on  new  clothes.  Kate 
could  not  solve  the  problem,  so  she  decided  to  watch 
and  wait.  She  also  waited  for  someone  to  say  something 
about  her  plans,  but  no  one  said  a  word,  so  after  waiting 
all  evening  Kate  decided  that  they  would  ask  before 
they  learned  anything  from  her.  She  took  her  place  as 
usual,  and  the  work  went  on  as  if  she  had  not  been  away; 
but  she  was  happy,  even  in  her  bewilderment. 

If  her  father  noticed  the  absence  of  the  letter  she  had 
slipped  from  his  pocket  he  said  nothing  about  it  as  he 
drew  the  paper  and  letters  forth  and  laid  them  on  the 
table.  Kate  had  a  few  bad  minutes  while  this  was  going 
on,  she  was  sure  he  hesitated  an  instant  and  looked  closely 
at  the  letters  he  sorted;  but  when  he  said  nothing,  she 
breathed  deeply  in  relief  and  went  on  being  joyous.  It 
seemed  to  her  that  never  had  the  family  been  in  such  a 
good-natured  state  since  Adam  had  married  Agatha  and 
her  three  hundred  acres  with  house,  furniture,  and  stock. 
She  went  on  in  ignorance  of  what  had  happened  until 
after  Sunday  dinner  the  following  day.     Then  she  had 


46  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

planned  to  visit  Agatha  and  Adam.  It  was  very  probable 
that  it  was  because  she  was  dressing  for  this  visit  that 
Nancy  Ellen  decided  on  Kate's  enlightenment,  for  she 
could  not  have  helped  seeing  that  her  sister  was  almost 
stunned  at  times. 

Kate  gave  her  a  fine  opening.  As  she  stood  brushing 
her  wealth  of  gold  with  full-length  sweeps  of  her  arm,  she 
was  at  an  angle  that  brought  her  facing  the  mirror  before 
which  Nancy  Ellen  sat  training  waves  and  pinning  up 
loose  braids.  Her  hair  was  beautiful  and  she  slowly 
smiled  at  her  image  as  she  tried  different  effects  of  wave, 
loose  curl,  braids  high  piled  or  flat.  Across  her  bed  lay  a 
dress  that  was  a  reproduction  of  one  that  she  had  worn  for 
three  years,  but  a  glorified  reproduction.  The  original 
dress  had  been  Nancy  Ellen's  first  departure  from  the 
brown  and  gray  gingham  which  her  mother  always  had 
purchased  because  it  would  wear  well,  and  when  from  con- 
stant washing  it  faded  to  an  exact  dirt  colour  it  had  the 
advantage  of  providing  a  background  that  did  not  show 
the  dirt.  Nancy  Ellen  had  earned  the  money  for  a  new 
dress  by  raising  turkeys,  so  when  the  turkeys  went  to  town 
to  be  sold,  for  the  first  time  in  her  life  Nancy  Ellen  went 
along  to  select  the  dress.  No  one  told  her  what  kind  of 
dress  to  get,  because  no  one  imagined  that  she  would 
dare  buy  any  startling  variation  from  what  always  had 
been  provided  for  her. 

But  Nancy  Ellen  had  stood  facing  a  narrow  mirror 
when  she  reached  the  gingham  counter  and  the  clerk, 
taking  one  look  at  her  fresh,  beautiful  face  with  its  sharp 


PEREGRINATIONS  47 

contrasts  of  black  eyes  and  hair,  rose-tinted  skin  that 
refused  to  tan,  and  red  cheeks  and  lips,  began  shaking 
out  delicate  blues,  pale  pinks,  golden  yellows.  He  called 
them  chambray;  insisted  that  they  wore  for  ever,  and 
were  fadeless,  which  was  practically  the  truth.  On  the 
day  that  dress  was  like  to  burst  its  waist  seams,  it  was 
the  same  warm  rosy  pink  that  transformed  Nancy  Ellen 
from  the  disfiguration  of  dirt-brown  to  apple  and  peach 
bloom,  wild  roses  and  swamp  mallow,  a  girl  quite  as 
pretty  as  a  girl  ever  grows,  and  much  prettier  than  any 
girl  ever  has  any  business  to  be.  The  instant  Nancy 
Ellen  held  the  chambray  under  her  chin  and  in  an 
oblique  glance  saw  the  face  of  the  clerk,  the  material 
was  hers  no  matter  what  the  cost,  which  does  not  refer 
to  the  price,  by  any  means.  Knowing  that  the  dress 
would  be  an  innovation  that  would  set  her  mother 
storming  and  fill  Kate  with  envy,  which  would  probably 
culminate  in  the  demand  that  the  goods  be  returned 
and  exchanged  for  dirt-brown,  when  she  reached  home 
Nancy  Ellen  climbed  from  the  wagon  and  told  her 
father  that  she  was  going  on  to  Adam's  to  have 
Agatha  cut  out  her  dress  so  that  she  could  begin  to 
sew  on  it  that  night.  Such  commendable  industry  met 
his  hearty  approval,  so  he  told  her  to  go  and  he  would 
see  that  Kate  did  her  share  of  the  work.  Wise  Nancy 
Ellen  came  home  and  sat  her  down  to  sew  on  her  gorgeous 
frock,  while  the  storm  she  had  feared  raged  in  all  its  fury; 
but  the  goods  was  cut,  and  could  not  be  returned.  Yet, 
through  it,  a  miracle  happened:  Nancy  Ellen  so   appre- 


48  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

ciated  herself  in  pink  that  the  extreme  care  she  used  with 
that  dress  saved  it  from  half  the  trips  of  a  dirt-brown 
one  to  the  wash  board  and  the  ironing  table;  while,  marvel 
of  marvels,  it  did  not  shrink,  it  did  not  fade,  also  it  wore 
like  buckskin.  The  result  was  that  before  the  season  had 
passed  Kate  was  allowed  to  purchase  a  pale  blue,  which 
improved  her  appearance  quite  as  much  in  proportion  as 
pink  had  Nancy  Ellen's;  neither  did  the  blue  fade  nor 
shrink  nor  require  so  much  washing,  for  the  same  reason. 
Three  years  the  pink  dress  had  been  Nancy  Ellen's  piece 
de  resistance;  now  she  had  a  new  one,  much  the  same,  yet 
conspicuously  different.  This  was  a  daring  rose  colour, 
full  and  wide,  peeping  white  embroidery  trimming,  and 
big  pearl  buttons,  really  a  beautiful  dress,  made  in  a 
becoming  manner.  Kate  looked  at  it  in  cheerful  envy. 
Never  mind!  The  coming  summer  she  would  have  a  blue 
that  would  make  that  pink  look  silly.  From  the  dress 
she  turned  to  Nancy  Ellen,  barely  in  time  to  see  her  bend 
her  head  and  smirk,  broadly,  smilingly,  approvingly,  at 
her  reflection  in  the  glass. 

"For  mercy  sake,  what  is  the  matter  with  you?" 
demanded  Kate,  ripping  out  a  strand  of  hair  in  sudden 
irritation. 

"Oh,  something  lovely!"  answered  her  sister,  knowing 
that  this  was  her  chance  to  impart  the  glad  tidings  her- 
self; if  she  lost  it,  Agatha  would  get  the  thrill  of  Kate's 
surprise.  So  Nancy  Ellen  opened  her  drawer  and  slowly 
produced  and  set  upon  her  bureau  a  cabinet  photograph 
of  a  remarkably  strong-featured,  handsome  young  man. 


PEREGRINATIONS  49 

Then  she  turned  to  Kate  and  smiled  a  slow,  challenging 
smile.  Kate  walked  over  and  picked  up  the  picture, 
studying  it  intently  but  in  growing  amazement. 

"Who  is  he?"  she  asked  finally. 

"My  man!"  answered  Nancy  Ellen,  possessively, 
triumphantly. 

Kate  stared  at  her.  "Honest  to  God?"  she  cried  in 
wonderment. 

"Honest!"  said  Nancy  Ellen. 

"Where  on  earth  did  you  find  him?"  demanded  Kate. 

"Picked  him  out  of  the  blackberry  patch,"  said  Nancy 
Ellen. 

"Those  darn  blackberries  are  always  late,"  said  Kate, 
throwing  the  picture  back  on  the  bureau.  "Ain't  that 
just  my  luck!  You  wouldn't  touch  the  raspberries. 
I  had  to  pick  them  every  one  myself.  But  the  minute 
I  turn  my  back,  you  go  pick  a  man  like  that,  out  of  the 
blackberry  patch.  I  bet  a  cow  you  wore  your  pink 
chambray,  and  carried  grandmother's  old  blue  bowl." 

"Certainly,"  said  Nancy  Ellen,  "and  my  pink  sun- 
bonnet.     I  think  maybe  the  bonnet  started  it." 

Kate  sat  down  limply  on  the  first  chair  and  studied  the 
toes  of  her  shoes.  At  last  she  roused  and  looked  at 
Nancy  Ellen,  waiting  in  smiling  complaisance  as  she 
returned  the  picture  to  her  end  of  the  bureau. 

"Well,  why  don't  you  go  ahead  ?"  cried  Kate  in  a  thick, 
rasping  voice.  "Empty  yourself!  Who  is  he?  Where 
did  he  come  from?  Why  was  he  in  our  blackberry 
patch  ?     Has  he  really  been  to  see  you,  and  is  he  courting 


So  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

you  in  earnest  ? But  of  course  he  is !   There's  the  lilac 

bush,  the  lawn-mower,  the  house  to  be  painted,  and  a 
humdinger  dress.  Is  he  a  millionaire?  For  Heaven's 
sake  tell  me -" 

"Give  me  some  chance!  I  did  meet  him  in  the  black- 
berry patch.  He's  a  nephew  of  Henry  Lang  and  his 
name  is  Robert  Gray.  He  has  just  finished  a  medical 
course  and  he  came  here  to  rest  and  look  at  Hartley 
for  a  location,  because  Lang  thinks  it  would  be  such 
a  good  one.  And  since  we  met  he  has  decided  to  take 
an  office  in  Hartley,  and  he  has  money  to  furnish  it,  and 
to  buy  and  furnish  a  nice  house." 

"Great  Jehoshaphat!"  cried  Kate.  "And  I  bet  he's 
got  wings,  too!     I  do  have  the  rottenest  luck!" 

"You  act  for  all  the  world  as  if  it  were  a  foregone  conclu- 
sion that  if  you  had  been  here,  you'd  have  won  him!" 

Nancy  Ellen  glanced  in  the  mirror  and  smiled,  while 
Kate  saw  the  smile.  She  picked  up  her  comb  and  drew 
herself  to  full  height. 

"If  anything  ever  was  a  'foregone  conclusion,'"  she 
said,  "it  is  a  'foregone  conclusion'  that  if  I  had  been 
here,  I'd  have  picked  the  blackberries,  and  so  I'd  have 
had  the  first  chance  at  him,  at  least." 

"Much  good  it  would  have  done  you!"  cried  Nancy 
Ellen.     "Wait  until  he  comes,  and  you  see  him!" 

"You  may  do  your  mushing  in  private,"  said  Kate. 
"I  don't  need  a  demonstration  to  convince  me.  He 
looks  from  the  picture  like  a  man  who  would  be  as  soft  as- 
a  frosted  pawpaw." 


PEREGRINATIONS  51 

Nancy  Ellen's  face  flamed  crimson.  "You  hateful 
spite-cat!"  she  cried. 

Then  she  picked  up  the  picture  and  laid  it  face  down  in 
her  drawer,  while  two  big  tears  ran  down  her  cheeks. 
Kate  saw  those  also.     Instantly  she  relented. 

"You  big  silly  goose!"  she  said.  "Can't  you  tell  when 
any  one  is  teasing?  I  think  I  never  saw  a  finer  face  than 
the  one  in  that  picture.  I'm  jealous  because  I  never 
left  home  a  day  before  in  ail  my  life,  and  the  minute  I  do, 
here  you  go  and  have  such  luck.  Are  you  really  sure  of 
him,  Nancy  Ellen?" 

"Well,  he  asked  Father  and  Mother,  and  I've  been  to 
visit  his  folks,  and  he  told  them;  and  I've  been  with 
him  to  Hartley  hunting  a  house;  and  I'm  not  to  teach  this 
winter,  so  I  can  have  all  my  time  to  make  my  clothes  and 
bedding.  Father  likes  him  fine,  so  he  is  going  to  give  me 
money  to  get  all  I  need.     He  offered  to,  himself." 

Kate  finished  her  braid,  pulled  the  combings  from  the 
comb  and  slowly  wrapped  the  end  of  her  hair  as  she 
digested  these  convincing  facts.  She  swung  the  heavy 
braid  around  her  head,  placed  a  few  pins,  then  crossed 
to  her  sister  and  laid  a  shaking  hand  on  her  shoulder. 
Her  face  was  working  strongly. 

"Nancy  Ellen,  I  didn't  mean  one  ugly  word  I  said. 
You  gave  me  an  awful  surprise,  and  that  was  just  my 
bald,  ugly  Bates  way  of  taking  it.  I  think  you  are  one 
of  the  most  beautiful  women  I  ever  have  seen,  alive  or 
pictured.  I  have  always  thought  you  would  make  a  fine 
marriage,  and  I  am  sure  you  will.     I  haven't  a  doubt 


52  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

that  Robert  Gray  is  all  you  think  him,  and  I  am  as  glad 
for  you  as  I  can  be.  You  can  keep  house  in  Hartley 
for  two  with  scarcely  any  work  at  all,  and  you  can  have 
all  the  pretty  clothes  you  want,  and  time  to  wear  them. 
Doctors  always  get  rich  if  they  are  good  ones,  and  he  is 
sure  to  be  a  good  one,  once  he  gets  a  start.  If  only  we 
weren't  so  beastly  healthy  there  are  enough  Bates  and 
Langs  to  support  you  the  first  year.  And  I'll  help  you 
sew,  and  do  all  I  can  for  you.  Now  wipe  up  and  look 
your  handsomest!" 

Nancy  Ellen  arose  and  put  her  arms  around  Kate's 
neck,  a  stunningly  unusual  proceeding.  "Thank  you," 
she  said.  "That  is  big  and  fine  of  you.  But  I  always 
have  shirked  and  put  my  work  on  you;  I  guess  now  I'll 
quit,  and  do  my  sewing  myself." 

Then  she  slipped  the  pink  dress  over  her  head  and  stood 
slowly  fastening  it  as  Kate  started  to  leave  the  room. 
Seeing  her  go:  "I  wish  you  would  wait  and  meet  Robert," 
she  said.  "I  have  told  him  about  what  a  nice  sister  I 
have." 

"I  think  I'll  go  on  to  Adam's  now,"  said  Kate.  "I 
don't  want  to  wait  until  they  go  some  place,  and  I  miss 
them.  I'll  do  better  to  meet  your  man  after  I  become 
more  accustomed  to  bare  facts,  anyway.  By  the  way, 
is  he  as  tall  as  you?" 

"Yes,"  said  Nancy  Ellen,  laughing.  "He  is  an  inch 
and  a  half  taller.     Why?" 

"Oh,  I  hate  seeing  a  woman  taller  than  her  husband 
and  I've  always  wondered  where  we'd  find  men  to  reach 


PEREGRINATIONS  53 

our  shoulders.  But  if  they  can  be  picked  at  random  from 
the  berry  patch " 

So  Kate  went  on  her  way  laughing,  lifting  her  white 
skirts  high  from  the  late  August  dust.  She  took  a  short 
cut  through  the  woods  and  at  a  small  stream,  with  sure 
foot,  crossed  the  log  to  within  a  few  steps  of  the  opposite 
bank.  There  she  stopped,  for  a  young  man  rounded 
the  bushes  and  set  a  foot  on  the  same  log;  then  he  and 
Kate  looked  straight  into  each  other's  eyes.  Kate  saw 
a  clean-shaven,  forceful  young  face,  with  strong  lines 
and  good  colouring,  clear  gray  eyes,  sandy  brown  hair, 
even,  hard,  white  teeth,  and  broad  shoulders  a  little 
above  her  own.  The  man  saw  Kate,  dressed  in  her  best 
and  looking  her  best.     Slowly  she  extended  her  hand. 

"I  bet  a  picayune  you  are  my  new  brother,  Robert," 
she  said. 

The  young  man  gripped  her  hand  firmly,  held  it,  and 
kept  on  looking  in  rather  a  stunned  manner  at  Kate. 

"Well,  aren't  you?"  she  asked,  trying  to  withdraw  the 
hand. 

"I  never,  never  would  have  believed  it,"  he  said. 

"Believed  what?"  asked  Kate,  leaving  the  hand  where 
it  was. 

"That  there  could  be  two  in  the  same  family,"  said  he. 

"But  I'm  as  different  from  Nancy  Ellen  as  night  from 
day,"  said  Kate,  "besides,  woe  is  me,  I  didn't  wear  a 
pink  dress  and  pick  you  from  the  berry  patch  in  a  blue 
bowl." 

Then  the  man  released  her  hand  and  laughed.     "You 


54  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

wouldn't  have  had  the  slightest  trouble,  if  you  had  been 
there,"  he  said. 

"Except  that  I  should  have  inverted  my  bowl,"  said 
Kate,  calmly.  "I  am  looking  for  a  millionaire,  riding  a 
milk-white  steed,  and  he  must  be  much  taller  than  you 
and  have  black  hair  and  eyes.  Good-bye,  brother!  I 
will  see  you  this  evening." 

Then  Kate  went  down  the  path  to  deliver  the  telescope, 
render  her  thanks,  make  her  promise  of  speedy  payment, 
and  for  the  first  time  tell  her  good  news  about  her  school. 
She  found  that  she  was  very  happy  as  she  went  and  quite 
convinced  that  her  first  flight  would  prove  entirely  suc- 
cessful. 


CHAPTER  IV 
A  Question  of  Contracts 

HELLO,  Folks!"  cried  Kate,  waving  her  hand  to 
the  occupants  of  the  veranda  as  she  went  up 
the  walk.     "Glad  to  find  you  at  home." 

"That  is  where  you  will  always  find  me  unless  I  am 
forced  away  on  business,"  said  her  brother  as  they  shook 
hands. 

Agatha  was  pleased  with  this,  and  stiff  as  steel,  she  bent 
the  length  of  her  body  toward  Kate  and  gave  her  a  tight- 
lipped  little  peck  on  the  cheek. 

"I  came  over,  as  soon  as  I  could,"  said  Kate  as  she 
took  the  chair  her  brother  offered,  "to  thank  you  for  the 
big  thing  you  did  for  me,  Agatha,  when  you  lent  me 
that  money.  If  I  had  known  where  I  was  going,  or  the 
help  it  would  be  to  me,  I  should  have  gone  if  I'd  had  to 
walk  and  work  for  my  board.  Why,  I  feel  so  sure  of 
myself!  I've  learned  so  much  that  I'm  like  the  girl  fresh 
from  boarding  school:  'The  only  wonder  is  that  one 
small  head  can  contain  it  all.'  Thank  you  over  and 
over  and  I've  got  a  good  school,  so  I  can  pay  you  back 
the  very  first  month,  I  think.  If  there  are  things  I  must 
have,  I  can  pay  part  the  first  month  and  the  remainder 
the   second.     I    am   eager   for   pay-day.     I   can't   even 


56  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

picture  the  bliss  of  having  that  much  money  in  my 
fingers,  all  my  own,  to  do  with  as  I  please.  Won't  it  be 
grand?" 

In  the  same  breath  said  Agatha:  "Procure  yourself 
some  clothes!"     Said  Adam:     "Start  a  bank  account!" 

Said  Kate:     "Right  you  are!     I  shall  do  both." 

"Even  our  little  Susan  has  a  bank  account,"  said 
Adam,  Jr.,  proudly. 

"Which  is  no  reflection  whatever  on  me,"  laughed 
Kate.  "Susan  did  not  have  the  same  father  and  mother 
I  had.  I'd  like  to  see  a  girl  of  my  branch  of  the  Bates 
family  start  a  bank  account  at  ten." 

"No,  I  guess  she  wouldn't,"  admitted  Adam,  dryly. 

"But  have  you  heard  what  Nancy  Ellen  has  started?" 
cried  Kate.  "Only  think!  A  lawn-mower!  The  house 
and  barn  to  be  painted!  All  the  dinge  possible  to  re- 
move scoured  away,  inside!  She  must  have  worn  her 
fingers  almost  to  the  bone!  And  really,  Agatha,  have  you 
seen  the  man?  He's  as  big  as  Adam,  and  just  fine  look- 
ing.    I'm  simply  consumed  with  envy." 

"Miss  Medira,  Dora,  Ann,  cast  her  net, 
And  catched  a  man!" 

recited  Susan  from  the  top  step,  at  which  they  all  laughed. 
"No,  I  have  not  had  the  pleasure  of  casting  my  optics 
upon  the  individual  of  Nancy  Ellen's  choice,"  said  Agatha 
primly,  "but  Miss  Amelia  Lang  tells  me  he  is  a  very  dis- 
tinguished person,  of  quite  superior  education  in  a  medical 
way.    I  shall  call  him  if  I  ever  have  the  misfortune  to  fall 


A  QUESTION  OF  CONTRACTS  57 

ill  again.  I  hope  you  will  tell  Nancy  Ellen  that  we  shall 
be  very  pleased  to  have  her  bring  him  to  see  us  some  even- 
ing, and  if  she  will  let  me  know  a  short  time  ahead  I  shall 
take  great  pleasure  in  compounding  a  cake  and  freezing 
custard." 

"Of  course  I  shall  tell  her,  and  she  will  feel  a  trifle 
more  stuck  up  than  she  does  now,  if  that  is  possible," 
laughed  Kate  in  deep  amusement. 

She  surely  was  feeling  fine.  Everything  had  come 
out  so  splendidly.  That  was  what  came  of  having  a  little 
spirit  and  standing  up  for  your  rights.  Also  she  was 
bubbling  inside  while  Agatha  talked.  Kate  wondered  how 
Adam  survived  it  every  day.  She  glanced  at  him  to  see 
if  she  could  detect  any  marks  of  shattered  nerves,  then 
laughed  outright. 

Adam  was  the  finest  physical  specimen  of  a  man  she 
knew.  He  was  good  looking  also,  and  spoke  as  well  as 
the  average,  better  in  fact,  for  from  the  day  of  their  mar- 
riage, Agatha  sat  on  his  lap  each  night  and  said  these 
words:  "My  beloved,  to-day  I  noted  an  error  in  your 
speech.  It  would  put  a  former  teacher  to  much  embar- 
rassment to  have  this  occur  in  public.  In  the  future  will 
you  not  try  to  remember  that  you  should  say,  'have 
gone,'  instead  of  'have  went?'"  As  she  talked  Agatha 
rumpled  Adam's  hair,  pulled  off  his  string  tie,  upon  which 
she  insisted,  even  when  he  was  plowing;  laid  her  hard 
little  face  against  his,  and  held  him  tight  with  her  frail 
arms,  so  that  Adam  being  part  human  as  well  as  part 
Bates,  held  her  closely  also  and  said  these  words:     "You 


58  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

bet  your  sweet  life  I  will!"  And  what  is  more  he  did. 
He  followed  a  furrow  the  next  day,  softly  muttering  over 
to  himself:  "Langs  have  gone  to  town.  I  have  gone  to 
work.  The  birds  have  gone  to  building  nests."  So 
Adam  seldom  said:  "have  went,"  or  made  any  other 
error  in  speech  that  Agatha  had  once  corrected. 

As  Kate  watched  him  leaning  back  in  his  chair,  vital, 
a  study  in  well-being,  the  supremest  kind  of  satisfaction 
on  his  face,  she  noted  the  flash  that  lighted  his  eye  when 
Agatha  offered  to  "freeze  a  custard."  How  like  Agatha! 
Any  other  woman  Kate  knew  would  have  said,  "make 
ice  cream."  Agatha  explained  to  them  that  when  they 
beat  up  eggs,  added  milk,  sugar,  and  corn-starch  it  was 
custard.  When  they  used  pure  cream,  sweetened  and 
frozen,  it  was  iced  cream.  Personally,  she  preferred  the 
custard,  but  she  did  not  propose  to  call  a  custard,  cream. 
It  was  not  correct.  Why  persist  in  misstatements  and 
inaccuracies  when  one  knew  better?  So  Agatha  said 
iced  cream  when  she  meant  it,  and  frozen  custard,  when 
custard  it  was,  but  every  other  woman  in  the  neighbour- 
hood, had  she  acted  as  she  felt,  would  have  slapped 
Agatha's  face  when  she  said  it:  this  both  Adani  and  Kate 
well  knew,  so  it  made  Kate  laugh  despite  the  fact  that 
she  would  not  have  offended  Agatha  purposely. 

"I  think — I  think,"  said  Agatha,  "that  Nancy  Ellen 
has  much  upon  which  to  congratulate  herself.  More 
education  would  not  injure  her,  but  she  has  enough  that 
if  she  will  allow  her  ambition  to  rule  her  and  study  in 
private  and  spend  her  spare  time  communing  with  the 


A  QUESTION  OF  CONTRACTS  59 

best  writers,  she  can  make  an  exceedingly  fair  intellectual 
showing,  while  she  surely  is  a  handsome  woman.  With 
a  good  home  and  such  a  fine  young  professional  man  as 
she  has  had  the  good  fortune  to  attract,  she  should  im- 
mediately put  herself  at  the  head  of  society  in  Hartley 
and  become  its  leader  to  a  much  higher  moral  and  in- 
tellectual plane  than  it  now  occupies." 

"Bet  she  has  a  good  time,"  said  young  Adam.  "He's 
awful  nice." 

"Son,"  said  Agatha,  "'awful,'  meahs  full  of  awe.  A 
cyclone,  a  cloudburst,  a  great  conflagration  are  awful 
things.  By  no  stretch  of  the  imagination  could  they  be 
called  nice." 

"  But,  Ma,  if  a  cyclone  blew  away  your  worst  enemy 
wouldn't  it  be  nice?" 

Adam,  Jr.,  and  Kate  laughed.  Not  the  trace  of  a  smile 
crossed  Agatha's  pale  face. 

"The  words  do  not  belong  in  contiguity,"  she  said. 
"They  are  diametrically  opposite  in  meaning.  Please 
do  not  allow  my  ears  to  be  offended  by  hearing  you  place 
them  in  propinquity  again." 

"I'll  try  not  to,  Ma,"  said  young  Adam;  then  Agatha 
smiled  on  him  approvingly.  "When  did  you  meet  Mr. 
Gray,  Katherine?"  she  asked. 

"On  the  foot-log  crossing  the  creek  beside  Lang's 
line  fence.  Near  the  spot  Nancy  Ellen  first  met  him  I 
imagine." 

"How  did  you  recognize  him?" 

"Nancy  Ellen  had  just  been  showing  me  his  picture 


60  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

and  telling  me  about  him.  Great  Day,  but  she's  in  love 
with  him!" 

"And  so  he  is  with  her,  if  Lang's  conclusions  from  his 
behaviour  can  be  depended  upon.  They  inform  me  that 
he  can  be  induced  to  converse  on  no  other  subject.  The 
whole  arrangement  appeals  to  me  as  distinctly  admirable." 

"And  you  should  see  the  lilac  bush  and  the  cabbage 
roses,"  said  Kate.  "And  the  strangest  thing  is  Father. 
He  is  peaceable  as  a  lamb.  She  is  not  to  teach,  but  to  spend 
the  winter  sewing  on  her  clothes  and  bedding,  and  Father 
told  her  he  would  give  her  the  necessary  money.  She  said 
so.  And  I  suspect  he  will.  He  always  favoured  her  be- 
cause she  was  so  pretty,  and  she  can  come  closer  to  wheed- 
ling him  than  any  of  the  rest  of  us  excepting  you,  Agatha.'' 

"It  is  an  innovation,  surely!" 

"Mother  is  nearly  as  bad.  Father  furnishing  money  for 
clothes  and  painting  the  barn  is  no  more  remarkable 
than  Mother  letting  her  turn  the  house  inside  out.  If 
it  had  been  I,  Father  would  have  told  me  to  teach  my 
school  this  winter,  buy  my  own  clothes  and  linen  with 
the  money  I  had  earned,  and  do  my  sewing  next  summer. 
But  I  am  not  jealous.  It  is  because  she  is  handsome, 
and  the  man  fine-looking  and  with  such  good  prospects." 

"There  you  have  it!"  said  Adam  emphatically.  "If 
it  were  you,  marrying  Jim  Lang,  to  live  on  Lang's  west 
forty,  you  would  pay  your  own  way.  But  if  it  were  you 
marrying  a  fine-looking  young  doctor,  who  will  soon 
be  a  power  in  Hartley,  no  doubt,  it  would  tickle  Father's 
vanity  until  he  would  do  the  same  for  you." 


A  QUESTION  OF  CONTRACTS  61 

"I  doubt  it!"  said  Kate.  "I  can't  see  the  vanity  in 
Father." 

"You  can't?"  said  Adam,  Jr.,  bitterly.  "Maybe  not! 
You  have  not  been  with  him  in  the  Treasurer's  office  when 
he  calls  for  'the  tax  on  those  little  parcels  of  land  of  mine.' 
He  looks  every  inch  of  six  feet  six  then,  and  swells  like  a 
toad.  To  hear  him  you  would  think  sixteen  hundred 
and  fifty  acres  of  the  cream  of  this  county  could  be  tied 
in  a  bandanna  and  carried  on  a  walking  stick,  he  is  so 
casual  about  it.  And  those  men  fly  around  like  buttons 
on  a  barn  door  to  wait  on  him  and  it's  'Mister  Bates  this' 
and  'Mister  Bates  that,'  until  it  turns  my  stomach. 
Vanity!  He  rolls  in  it!  He  eats  it!  He  risks  losing  our 
land  for  us  that  some  of  us  have  slaved  over  for  twenty 
years,  to  feed  that  especial  vein  of  his  vanity.  Where 
should  we  be  if  he  let  anything  happen  to  those  deeds?" 

"How  refreshing!"  cried  Kate.  "I  love  to  hear  you 
grouching!  I  hear  nothing  else  from  the  women  of  the 
Bates  family,  but  I  didn't  even  know  the  men  had  a 
grouch.  Are  Peter,  and  John,  and  Hiram,  and  the  other 
boys  sore,  too?" 

"I  should  say  they  are!  But  they  are  too  diplomatic 
to  say  so.  They  are  afraid  to  cheep.  I  just  open  my  head 
and  say  right  out  loud  in  meeting  that  since  I've  turned 
in  the  taxes  and  insurance  for  all  these  years  and  improved 
my  land  more  than  fifty  per  cent.,  I'd  like  to  own  it,  and 
pay  my  taxes  myself,  like  a  man." 

"I'd  like  to  have  some  land  under  any  conditions," 
said  Kate,  "but  probably  I  never  shall.     And  I  bet  you 


62  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

never  get  a  flipper  on  that  deed  until  Father  has  crossed 
over  Jordan,  which  with  his  health  and  strength  won't 
be  for  twenty-five  years  yet  at  least.  He's  performing  a 
miracle  that  will  make  the  other  girls  rave,  when  he  gives 
Nancy  Ellen  money  to  buy  her  outfit;  but  they  won't 
dare  let  him  hear  a  whisper  of  it.  They'll  take  it  all  out 
on  Mother,  and  she'll  be  afraid  to  tell  him." 

"Afraid?  Mother  afraid  of  him?  Not  on  your  life. 
She  is  hand  in  glove  with  him.  She  thinks  as  he  does, 
and  helps  him  in  everything  he  undertakes." 

"That's  so,  too.  Come  to  think  of  it,  she  isn't  a  particle 
afraid  of  him.  She  agrees  with  him  perfectly.  It  would 
be  interesting  to  hear  them  having  a  private  conversation. 
They  never  talk  a  word  before  us.  But  they  always 
agree,  and  they  heartily  agree  on  Nancy  Ellen's  man, 
that  is  plainly  to  be  seen." 

"It  will  make  a  very  difficult  winter  for  you,  {Catherine, " 
said  Agatha.  "When  Nancy  Ellen  becomes  interested 
in  dresses  and  table  linen  and  bedding  she  will  want  to 
sew  all  the  time,  and  leave  the  cooking  and  dishes  for 
you  as  well  as  your  schoolwork." 

Kate  turned  toward  Agatha  in  surprise.  "But  I 
won't  be  there!     I  told  you  I  had  taken  a  school." 

"You  taken  a  school!"  shouted  Adam.  "Why,  didn't 
they  tell  you  that  Father  has  signed  up  for  the  home 
school  for  you?" 

"Good  Heavens!"  said  Kate.  "What  will  be  to  pay 
now  ? " 

"Did  you  contract  for  another  school?"  cried  Adam. 


A  QUESTION  OF  CONTRACTS  63 

"I  surely  did,"  said  Kate  slowly.  "I  signed  an  agree- 
ment to  teach  the  village  school  in  Walden.  It's  a  brick 
building  with  a  janitor  to  sweep  and  watch  fires,  only 
a  few  blocks  to  walk,  and  it  pays  twenty  dollars  a  month 
more  than  the  home  school  where  you  can  wade  snow 
three  miles,  build  your  own  fires,  and  freeze  all  day  in  a 
little  frame  building  at  that.  I  teach  the  school  I  have 
taken." 

"And  throw  our  school  out  of  a  teacher?  Father  could 
be  sued,  and  probably  will  be,"  said  Adam.  "And  throw 
the  housework  Nancy  Ellen  expected  you  to  do  on  her," 
said  Agatha,  at  the  same  time. 

"I  see,"  said  Kate.  "Well,  if  he  is  sued,  he  will  have 
to  settle.  He  wouldn't  help  me  a  penny  to  go  to  school, 
I  am  of  age,  the  debt  is  my  own,  and  I  don't  owe  it  to 
him.  He's  had  all  my  work  has  been  worth  all  my  life, 
and  I've  surely  paid  my  way.  I  shall  teach  the  school 
I  have  signed  for." 

"You  will  get  into  a  pretty  kettle  of  fish!"  said  Adam. 

"Agatha,  will  you  sell  me  your  telescope  for  what  you 
paid  for  it,  and  get  yourself  a  new  one  the  next  time  you 
go  to  Hartley?  It  is  only  a  few  days  until  time  to  go  to 
my  school,  it  opens  sooner  than  in  the  country,  and 
closes  later.  The  term  is  four  months  longer,  so  I  earn 
that  much  more.  I  haven't  gotten  a  telescope  yet.  You 
can  add  it  to  my  first  payment." 

"You  may  take  it,"  said  Agatha,  "but  hadn't  you  better 
reconsider,  Katherine?  Things  are  progressing  so  nicely, 
and  this  will  upset  everything  for  Nancy  Ellen." 


64  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

"That  taking  the  home  school  will  upset  everything  for 
me,  doesn't  seem  to  count.  It  is  late,  late  to  find  teachers, 
and  I  can  be  held  responsible  if  1  break  the  contract  I  have 
made.  Father  can  stand  the  racket  better  than  I  can. 
When  he  wouldn't  consent  to  my  going,  he  had  no  busi- 
ness to  make  plans  for  me.  I  had  to  make  my  own  plans 
and  go  in  spite  of  him;  he  might  have  known  I'd  do  all 
in  my  power  to  get  a  school.  Besides,  I  don't  want  the 
home  school,  or  the  home  work  piled  on  me.  My  hands 
look  like  a  human  being's  for  the  first  time  in  my  life; 
then  I  need  all  my  time  outside  of  school  to  study  and  map 
out  lessons.  I  am  going  to  try  for  a  room  in  the  Hartley 
schools  next  year,  or  the  next  after  that,  surely.  They 
sha'n't  change  my  plans  and  boss  me,  I  am  going  to  be  free 
to  work,  and  study,  and  help  myself,  like  other  teachers." 

"A  grand  row  this  will  be,"  commented  young  Adam. 
"And  as  usual  Kate  will  be  right,  while  all  of  them  will 
be  trying  to  use  her  to  their  advantage.  Ma  has  done 
her  share.  Now  it  is  your  turn,  Pa.  Ain't  you  going  to 
go  over  and  help  her?" 

"What  could  I  do?"  demanded  his  father.  "The 
mischief  is  done  now." 

"Well,  if  you  can't  do  anything  to  help,  you  can  let  me 
have  the  buggy  to  drive  her  to  Walden,  if  they  turn  her 
out. 

'"Forcibly  invite  her  to  proceed  to  her  destination,'  you 
mean,  son,"  said  Agatha. 

"Yes,  Ma,  that  is  exactly  what  I  mean,"  said  young 
Adam.     "Do  I  get  the  buggy?" 


A  QUESTION  OF  CONTRACTS  65 

"Yes,  you  may  take  my  private  conveyance.  But  do 
nothing  to  publish  the  fact.  There  is  no  need  to  incur 
antagonism  if  it  can  be  avoided." 

"  Kate,  I'll  be  driving  past  the  privet  bush  about  nine  in 
the  morning.  If  you  need  me,  hang  a  white  rag  on  it,  and 
I'll  stop  at  the  corner  of  the  orchard." 

"I  shall  probably  be  standing  in  the  road  waiting  for 
you,"  said  Kate. 

"Oh,  I  hope  not,"  said  Agatha. 

"Looks  remarkably  like  it  to  me,"  said  Kate. 

Then  she  picked  up  the  telescope,  said  good-bye  to  each 
of  them,  and  in  acute  misery  started  back  to  her  home. 
This  time  she  followed  the  footpath  beside  the  highway. 
She  was  so  busy  with  her  indignant  thought  that  she 
forgot  to  protect  her  skirts  from  the  dust  of  wayside 
weeds,  while  in  her  excitement  she  walked  so  fast  her 
face  was  red  and  perspiring  when  she  approached  the 
church. 

"Oh,  dear,  I  don't  know  about  it,"  said  Kate  to  the 
small,  silent  building.  "I  am  trying  to  follow  your  ad- 
vice, but  it  seems  to  me  that  life  is  very  difficult,  any 
way  you  go  at  it.  If  it  isn't  one  thing,  it  is  another. 
An  hour  ago  I  was  the  happiest  I  have  ever  been  in  my 
life;  only  look  at  me  now!  Any  one  who  wants  'the  wings 
of  morning'  may  have  them,  for  all  of  me.  It  seems 
definitely  settled  that  I  walk,  carry  a  load,  and  fight  for 
the  chance  to  do  even  that. " 

A  big  tear  rolled  down  either  side  of  Kate's  nose  and 
her  face  twisted  in  self-pity  for  an  instant.     But  when 


66  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

she  came  in  sight  of  home  her  shoulders  squared,  the  blue- 
gray  of  her  eyes  deepened  to  steel,  and  her  lips  set  in  a  line 
that  was  an  exact  counterpart  of  her  father's  when  he  had 
made  up  his  mind  and  was  ready  to  drive  his  family,  with 
their  consent  or  without  it.  As  she  passed  the  vegetable 
garden — there  was  no  time  or  room  for  flowers  in  a  Bates 
garden — Kate,  looking  ahead,  could  see  Nancy  Ellen  and 
Robert  Gray  beneath  the  cherry  trees.  She  hoped  Nancy 
Ellen  would  see  that  she  wa$  tired  and  dusty,  and 
should  have  time  to  brush  and  make  herself  more  pre- 
sentable to  meet  a  stranger,  and  so  Nancy  Ellen  did;  for 
which  reason  she  immediately  arose  and  came  to  the 
gate,  followed  by  her  suitor  whom  she  at  once  introduced. 
Kate  was  in  no  mood  for  words;  one  glance  at  her  proved 
to  Robert  Gray  that  she  was  tired  and  dusty,  that  there 
were  tear  marks  dried  on  her  face.  They  hastily  shook 
hands,  but  neither  mentioned  the  previous  meeting.  Ex- 
cusing herself  Kate  went  into  the  house  saying  she  would 
soon  return. 

Nancy  Ellen  glanced  at  Robert,  and  saw  the  look  of 
concern  on  his  face. 

"I  believe  she  has  been  crying,"  she  said.  "And  if 
she  has,  it's  something  new,  for  I  never  saw  a  tear  on  her 
face  before  in  my  life." 

"Truly?"  he  questioned  in  amazement. 

"Why,  of  course!     The  Bates  family  are  not  weepers." 

"So  I  have  heard,"  said  the  man,  rather  dryly. 

Nancy  Ellen  resented  his  tone. 

"Would  you  like  us  better  if  we  were?" 


A  QUESTION  OF  CONTRACTS  67 

"I  couldn't  like  you  better  than  I  do,  but  because  of 
what  I  have  heard  and  seen,  it  naturally  makes  me 
wonder  what  could  have  happened  that  has  made  her 
cry. 

"We  are  rather  outspoken,  and  not  at  all  secretive," 
said  Nancy  Ellen,  carelessly,  "you  will  soon  know." 

Kate  followed  the  walk  around  the  house  and  entered 
at  the  side  door,  finding  her  father  and  mother  in  the 
dining  room  reading  the  weekly  papers.  Her  mother 
glanced  up  as  she  entered. 

"What  did  you  bring  Agatha's  telescope  back  with  you 
for?"  she  instantly  demanded. 

For  a  second  Kate  hesitated.  It  had  to  come,  she  might 
as  well  get  it  over.  Possibly  it  would  be  easier  with  them 
alone  than  if  Nancy  Ellen  were  present. 

"It  is  mine,"  she  said.  "It  represents  my  first  pur- 
chase on  my  own  hook  and  line." 

"You  are  not  very  choicy  to  begin  on  second-hand  stuff. 
Nancy  Ellen  would  have  had  a  new  one." 

"No  doubt!"  said  Kate.     "But  this  will  do  for  me." 

Her  father  lowered  his  paper  and  asked  harshly: 
"What  did  you  buy  that  thing  for?" 

Kate  gripped  the  handle  and  braced  herself. 

"To  pack  my  clothes  in  when  I  go  to  my  school  next 
week,"  she  said  simply. 

"What?"   he   shouted.     "What?"   cried   her  mother. 

"I  don't  know  why  you  seem  surprised,"  said  Kate. 
"Surely  you  knew  I  went  to  Normal  to  prepare  myself 
to  teach.     Did  you  think  I  couldn't  find  a  school?" 


68  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

"Now  look  here,  young  woman,"  shouted  Adam  Bates, 
"you  are  done  taking  the  bit  in  your  teeth.  Nancy 
Ellen  is  not  going  to  teach  this  winter.  I  have  taken  the 
home  school  for  you;  you  will  teach  it.  That  is  settled. 
I  have  signed  the  contract.     It  must  be  fulfilled." 

"Then  Nancy  Ellen  will  have  to  fulfill  it,"  said  Kate. 
"I  also  have  signed  a  contract  that  must  be  fulfilled.  I 
am  of  age,  and  you  had  no  authority  from  me  to  sign  a 
contract  for  me." 

For  an  instant  Kate  thought  there  was  danger  that 
the  purple  rush  of  blood  to  her  father's  head  might 
kill  him.  He  opened  his  mouth,  but  no  distinct  words 
came.  Her  face  paled  with  fright,  but  she  was  of  his 
blood,  so  she  faced  him  quietly.  Her  mother  was  quicker 
of  wit,  and  sharper  of  tongue. 

"Where  did  you  get  a  school?  Why  didn't  you  wait 
until  you  got  home?"  she  demanded. 

"I  am  going  to  teach  the  village  school  in  Walden," 
said  Kate.  "It  is  a  brick  building,  has  a  janitor,  I  can 
board  reasonably,  near  my  work,  and  I  get  twenty  dollars 
more  a  month  than  our  school  pays,  while  the  term  is  four 
months  longer." 

"Well  it  is  a  pity  about  that;  but  it  makes  no  dif- 
ference," said  her  mother.  "Our  home  school  has  got 
to  be  taught  as  Pa  contracted,  and  Nancy  Ellen  has  got 
to  have  her  chance." 

"What  about  my  chance?"  asked  Kate  evenly.  "Not 
one  of  the  girls,  even  Exceptional  Ability,  ever  had  as 
good  a  school  or  as  high  wages  to  start  on.     If  I  do 


A  QUESTION  OF  CONTRACTS  69 

well  there  this  winter,  I  am  sure  I  can  get  in  the  Hartley 
graded  schools  next  fall." 

"Don't  you  dare  nickname  your  sister,"  cried  Mrs. 
Bates,  shrilly.  "You  stop  your  impudence  and  mind 
your  father." 

"Ma,  you  leave  this  to  me,"  said  Adam  Bates,  thickly. 
Then  he  glared  at  Kate  as  he  arose,  stretching  himself  to 
full  height.  "You've  signed  a  contract  for  a  school?" 
he  demanded. 

"I  have,"  said  Kate. 

"Why  didn't  you  wait  until  you  got  home  and  talked  it 
over  with  us?"  he  questioned. 

"I  went  to  you  to  talk  over  the  subject  of  going,"  said 
Kate.  "You  would  not  even  allow  me  to  speak.  How 
was  I  to  know  that  you  would  have  the  slightest  interest  in 
what  school  I  took,  or  where." 

"When  did  you  sign  this  contract?"  he  continued. 

"Yesterday  afternoon,  in  Hartley,"  said  Kate. 

"Aha!  Then  I  did  miss  a  letter  from  my  pocket. 
When  did  you  get  to  be  a  thief?"  he  demanded. 

"Oh,  Father!"  cried  Kate.  "It  was  my  letter.  I 
could  see  my  name  on  the  envelope.  I  asked  you  for  it, 
before  I  took  it." 

"From  behind  my  back,  like  the  sneak-thief  you  are. 
You  are  not  fit  to  teach  a  school  where  half  the  scholars 
are  the  children  of  your  brothers  and  sisters,  and  you 
are  not  fit  to  live  with  honest  people.  Pack  your  things 
and  be  off!" 

"Now?     This  afternoon?"  asked  Kate. 


70  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

"This  minute!"  he  cried. 

"All  right.  You  will  be  surprised  at  how  quickly  I 
can  go/'  said  Kate. 

She  set  down  the  telescope  and  gathered  a  straw  sun- 
shade and  an  apron  from  the  hooks  at  the  end  of  the  room, 
opened  the  dish  cupboard,  and  took  out  a  mug  deco- 
rated with  the  pinkest  of  wild  roses  and  the  reddest  and 
fattest  of  robins,  bearing  the  inscription  in  gold,  "For 
a  Good  Girl"  on  a  banner  in  its  beak.  Kate  smiled 
at  it  grimly  as  she  took  the  telescope  and  ran  upstairs. 
It  was  the  work  of  only  a  few  minutes  to  gather  her 
books  and  clothing  and  pack  the  big  telescope,  then  she 
went  down  the  front  stairs  and  left  the  house  by  the  front 
door  carrying  in  her  hand  everything  she  possessed  on 
earth.  As  she  went  down  the  walk  Nancy  Ellen  sprang 
up  and  ran  to  her  while  Robert  Gray  followed. 

"You'll  have  to  talk  to  me  on  the  road,"  said  Kate. 
"I  am  forbidden  the  house  which  also  means  the  grounds, 
I  suppose." 

She  walked  across  the  road,  set  the  telescope  on  the 
grass  under  a  big  elm  tree,  and  sat  down  beside  it. 

"I  find  I  am  rather  tired,"  she  said.  "Will  you  share 
the  sofa  with  me  ? " 

Nancy  Ellen  lifted  her  pink  skirt  and  sat  beside  Kate. 
Robert  Gray  stood  looking  down  at  them. 

"What  in  the  world  is  the  matter?"  asked  Nancy 
Ellen. 

"You  know,  of  course,  that  Father  signed  a  contract 
for  me  to  teach  the  home  school  this  winter,"  explained 


A  QUESTION  OF  CONTRACTS  71 

Kate.  "Well,  I  am  of  age,  and  he  had  no  authority 
from  me,  so  his  contract  isn't  legal.  None  of  you 
would  lift  a  finger  to  help  me  get  away  to  Normal,  how 
was  I  to  know  that  you  would  take  any  interest  in  finding 
me  a  school  while  I  was  gone?  I  thought  it  was  all  up 
to  me,  so  I  applied  for  the  school  in  Walden,  got  it,  and 
signed  the  contract  to  teach  it.  It  is  a  better  school, 
at  higher  wages.  I  thought  you  would  teach  here — I 
can't  break  my  contract.  Father  is  furious  and  has  or- 
dered me  out  of  the  house.  So  there  you  are,  or  rather 
here  I  am." 

"Well,  it  isn't  much  of  a  joke,"  said  Nancy  Ellen,  think- 
ing intently. 

What  she  might  have  said  had  they  been  alone,  Kate 
always  wondered.  What  she  did  say  while  her  betrothed 
looked  at  her  with  indignant  eyes  was  possibly  another 
matter.  It  proved  to  be  merely:  "Oh,  Kate,  I  am  so 
sorry!" 

"So  am  I,"  said  Kate.  "If  I  had  known  what  your 
plans  were,  of  course  I  should  gladly  have  helped  you  out. 
If  only  you  had  written  me  and  told  me." 

"I  wanted  to  surprise  you,"  said  Nancy  Ellen. 

"You  have,"  said  Kate.  "Enough  to  last  a  lifetime. 
I  don't  see  how  you  figured.  You  knew  how  late  it  was. 
You  knew  it  would  be  nip  and  tuck  if  I  got  a  school  at  all." 

"Of  course  we  did!  We  thought  you  couldn't  possibly 
get  one,  this  late,  so  we  fixed  up  the  scheme  to  let  you 
have  my  school,  and  let  me  sew  on  my  linen  this  winter. 
We  thought  you  would  be  as  pleased  as  we  were." 


72  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

"I  am  too  sorry  for  words,"  said  Kate.  "If  I  had 
known  your  plan,  I  would  have  followed  it,  even  though 
I  gave  up  a  better  school  at  a  higher  salary.  But 
I  didn't  know.  I  thought  I  had  to  paddle  my  own  canoe, 
so  I  made  my  own  plans.  Now  I  must  live  up  to  them, 
because  my  contract  is  legal,  while  Father's  is  not.  I 
would  have  taught  the  school  for  you,  in  the  circum- 
stances, but  since  I  can't,  so  far  as  I  am  concerned,  the 
arrangement  I  have  made  is  much  better.  The  thing 
that  really  hurts  the  worst,  aside  from  disappointing 
you,  is  that  Father  says  I  was  not  honest  in  what  I  did." 

"But  what  did  you  do?"  cried  Nancy  Ellen. 

So  Kate  told  them  exactly  what  she  had  done. 

"Of  course  you  had  a  right  to  your  own  letter,  when 
you  could  see  the  address  on  it,  and  it  was  where  you 
could  pick  it  up,"  said  Robert  Gray. 

Kate  lifted  dull  eyes  to  his  face. 

"Thank  you  for  so  much  grace,  at  any  rate,"  she  said. 

"I  don't  blame  you  a  bit,"  said  Nancy  Ellen.  "In  the 
same  place  I'd  have  taken  it  myself." 

"You  wouldn't  have  had  to,"  said  Kate.  "I'm  too 
abrupt — too  much  like  the  gentleman  himself.  You 
would  have  asked  him  in  a  way  that  would  have  secured 
you  the  letter  with  no  trouble." 

Nancy  Ellen  highly  appreciated  these  words  of  praise 
before  her  lover.     She  arose  immediately. 

"Maybe  I  could  do  something  with  him  now,"  she  said. 
"I'll  go  and  see." 

"You  shall  do  nothing  of  the  kind,"  said  Kate.     "I 


A  QUESTION  OF  CONTRACTS  73 

am  as  much  Bates  as  he  is.  I  won't  be  taunted  after- 
ward that  he  turned  me  out  and  that  I  sent  you  to  him 
to  plead  for  me." 

"I'll  tell  him  you  didn't  want  me  to  come,  that  I  came 
of  my  own  accord,"  offered  Nancy  Ellen. 

"And  he  won't  believe  you,"  said  Kate. 

"Would  you  consent  for  me  to  go  ?"  asked  Robert  Gray. 

"Certainly  not!     I  can  look  out  for  myself." 

"What  shall  you  do?"  asked  Nancy  Ellen  anxiously. 

"That  is  getting  slightly  ahead  of  me,"  said  Kate. 
"If  I  had  been  diplomatic  I  could  have  evaded  this  until 
morning.  Adam,  3d,  is  to  be  over  then,  prepared  to 
take  me  anywhere  I  want  to  go.  What  I  have  to  face 
now  is  a  way  to  spend  the  night  without  letting  the  neigh- 
bours know  that  I  am  turned  out.  How  can  I  manage 
that?" 

Nancy  Ellen  and  Robert  each  began  making  suggestions, 
but  Kate  preferred  to  solve  her  own  problems. 

"I  think,"  she  said,  "that  I  shall  hide  the  telescope 
under  the  privet  bush,  there  isn't  going  to  be  rain  to-night; 
and  then  I  will  go  down  to  Hiram's  and  stay  all  night  and 
watch  for  Adam  when  he  passes  in  the  morning.  Hiram 
always  grumbles  because  we  don't  come  oftener." 

"Then  we  will  go  with  you,"  said  Nancy  Ellen.  "It 
will  be  a  pleasant  evening  walk,  and  we  can  keep  you  com- 
pany and  pacify  my  twin  brother  at  the  same  time." 

So  they  all  walked  to  the  adjoining  farm  on  the  south 
and  when  Nancy  Ellen  and  Robert  were  ready  to  start 
3ack,  Kate  said  she  was  tired  and  she  believed  she  would 


74  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

stay  until  morning,  which  was  agreeable  to  Hiram  and 
his  wife,  a  girlhood  friend  of  Kate's.  As  Nancy  Ellen 
and  Robert  walked  back  toward  home:  "How  is  this 
going  to  come  out?"  he  asked,  anxiously. 

"It  will  come  out  all  right,"  said  Nancy  Ellen,  serenely. 
"Kate  hasn't  a  particle  of  tact.  She  is  Father  himself, 
all  over  again.  It  will  come  out  this  way:  he  will  tell 
me  that  Kate  has  gone  back  on  him  and  I  shall  have  to 
teach  the  school,  and  I  will  say  that  is  the  only  solution 
and  the  best  thing  to  do.  Then  I  shall  talk  all  evening 
about  how  provoking  it  is,  and  how  I  hate  to  change  my 
plans,  and  say  I  am  afraid  I  shall  lose  you  if  I  have  to  put 
off  our  wedding  to  teach  the  school,  and  things  like  that," 
Nancy  Ellen  turned  a  flushed  sparkling  face  to  Robert, 
smiling  quizzically,  "and  to-morrow  I  shall  go  early  to 
see  Serena  Woodruff,  who  is  a  fine  scholar  and  a  good 
teacher,  but  missed  her  school  in  the  spring  by  being 
so  sick  she  was  afraid  to  contract  for  it.  She  is  all  right 
now,  and  she  will  be  delighted  to  have  the  school,  and 
when  I  know  she  will  take  it  then  I  shall  just  happen  to 
think  of  her  in  a  day  or  two  and  I'll  suggest  her,  after 
I've  wailed  a  lot  more;  and  Father  will  go  to  see  her  of 
his  own  accord,  and  it  will  all  be  settled  as  easy  ar  falling 
off  a  chunk,  only  I  shall  not  get  on  so  fast  with  my  sewing, 
because  of  having  to  help  Mother;  but  I  shall  do  my  best, 
and  everything  will  be  all  right." 

The  spot  was  secluded.  Robert  Gray  stopped  to  tell 
Nancy  Ellen  what  a  wonderful  girl  she  was.  He  said  he 
was  rather  afraid  of  such  diplomacy.     He  foresaw  clearly 


A  QUESTION  OF  CONTRACTS  75 

that  he  was  going  to  be  a  managed  man.  Nancy  Ellen 
told  him  of  course  he  was,  all  men  were,  the  thing  was 
not  to  let  them  know  it.  Then  they  laughed  and  listened 
to  a  wood  robin  singing  out  his  little  heart  in  an  evening 
song  that  was  almost  as  melodious  as  his  spring  perfor- 
mances had  been. 


CHAPTER  V 
The  Prodigal  Daughter 

EARLY  in  the  morning  Kate  set  her  young  nephew, 
on  the  gate-post  to  watch  for  his  cousin,  and  he 
was  to  have  a  penny  for  calling  at  his  approach. 
When  his  lusty  shout  came,  Kate  said  good-bye  to  her 
sister-in-law,  paid  the  penny,  kissed  the  baby,  and  was 
standing  in  the  road  when  Adam  stopped.  He  looked 
at  her  inquiringly. 

"Well,  it  happened,"  she  said.  "He  turned  me  out 
instanter,  with  no  remarks  about  when  I  might  return, 
if  ever,  while  Mother  cordially  seconded  the  motion. 
It's  a  good  thing,  Adam,  that  you  offered  to  take  care  of 
me,  because  I  see  clearly  that  you  are  going  to  have  it  to 
do." 

"Of  course  I  will,"  said  Adam  promptly.  "And  of 
course  I  can.  Do  you  want  to  go  to  Hartley  for  anything? 
Because  if  you  don't,  we  can  cut  across  from  the  next 
road  and  get  to  Walden  in  about  fifteen  miles,  while  it's 
seventeen  by  Hartley;  but  if  you  want  to  go  we  can,  for 
I  needn't  hurry.  I've  got  a  "box  of  lunch  and  a  feed  for 
my  horse  in  the  back  of  the  buggy.  Mother  said  I  was 
to  stay  with  you  until  I  saw  you  settled  in  your  room, 
if  you   had   to  go;  and   if  you  do,  she  is  angry  witb 

76 


THE  PRODIGAL  DAUGHTER  77 

Grandpa,  and  she  is  going  to  give  him  a  portion  of  her 
mentality  the  very  first  time  she  comes  in  contact  with 
him.     She  said  so." 

"Yes,  I  can  almost  hear  her,"  said  Kate,  struggling  to 
choke  down  a  rising  laugh.  "She  will  never  know  how 
I  appreciate  what  she  has  done  for  me,  but  I  think  talk- 
ing to  Father  will  not  do  any  good.  Home  hasn't  been 
so  overly  pleasant.  It's  been  a  small,  dark,  cramped 
house,  dingy  and  hot,  when  it  might  have  been  big,  airy, 
and  comfortable,  well  furnished  and  pretty  as  Father's 
means  would  allow,  and  as  all  the  neighbours  always 
criticize  him  for  not  having  it;  it's  meant  hard  work  and 
plenty  of  it  ever  since  I  was  set  to  scouring  the  tinware 
with  rushes  at  the  mature  age  of  four,  but  it's  been  home, 
all  the  home  I  have  had,  and  it  hurts  more  than  I  can  tell 
you  to  be  ordered  out  of  it  as  I  was,  but  if  I  do  well  and 
make  a  big  success,  maybe  he  will  let  me  come  back  for 
Christmas,  or  next  summer's  vacation." 

"If  he  won't,  Ma  said  you  could  come  to  our  house," 
said  Adam. 

"That's  kind  of  her,  but  I  couldn't  do  it,"  said  Kate. 

"She  said  you  could,"  persisted  the  boy. 

"But  if  I  did  it,  and  father  got  as  mad  as  he  was  last 
night  and  tore  up  your  father's  deed,  then  where  would  I 
be?"  asked  Kate. 

"You'd  be  a  sixteenth  of  two  hundred  acres  better  off 
than  you  are  now,"  said  Adam. 

"Possibly,"  laughed  Kate,  "but  I  wouldn't  want  to 
become  a  land  shark  that  way.     Look  down  the  road." 


78  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

"Who  is  it?"  asked  Adam. 

"Nancy  Ellen,  with  my  telescope,"  answered  Kate. 
"I  am  to  go,  all  right." 

"All  right,  then  we  will  go,"  said  the  boy,  angrily. 
"But  it  is  a  blame  shame  and  there  is  no  sense  to  it,  as 
good  a  girl  as  you  have  been,  and  the  way  you  have  worked. 
Mother  said  at  breakfast  there  was  neither  sense  nor  jus- 
tice in  the  way  Grandpa  always  has  acted  and  she  said 
she  would  wager  all  she  was  worth  that  he  would  live  to 
regret  it.  She  said  it  wasn't  natural,  and  when  people 
undertook  to  controvert — ain't  that  a  peach?  Bet  there 
isn't  a  woman  in  ten  miles  using  that  word  except  Ma — 
nature  they  always  hurt  themselves  worse  than  they  hurt 
their  victims.  And  I  bet  he  does,  too,  and  I,  for  one,  don't 
care.  I  hope  he  does  get  a  good  jolt,  just  to  pay  him  up 
for  being  so  mean." 

"Don't,  Adam,  don't!"  cautioned  Kate. 

"I  mean  it!"  cried  the  boy. 

"I  know  you  do.  That's  the  awful  thing  about  it," 
said  Kate.  "I  am  afraid  every  girl  he  has  feels  the 
same  way,  and  from  what  your  father  said  yesterday, 
even  the  sons  he  favours  don't  feel  any  too  good  toward 
him." 

"You  just  bet  they  don't!  They  are  every  one  as  sore 
as  boiled  owls.  Pa  said  so,  and  he  knows,  for  they  all 
talk  it  over  every  time  they  meet.  He  said  they  didn't 
feel  like  men,  they  felt  like  a  lot  of  'spanked  school-boys. ' " 

"They  needn't  worry,"  said  Kate.  "Every  deed  is 
made  out.     Father  reads  them  over  whenever  it  rains. 


THE  PRODIGAL  DAUGHTER  79 

They'll  all  get  their  land  when  he  dies.  It  is  only  his 
way." 

"Yes,  and  this  is  only  his  way,  too,  and  it's  a  dern  poor 
way,"  said  Adam.  "Pa  isn't  going  to  do  this  way  at  all. 
Mother  said  he  could  go  and  live  on  his  land,  and  she'd 
stay  home  with  Susan  and  me,  if  he  tried  it.  And  when 
I  am  a  man  I  am  going  to  do  just  like  Pa  and  Ma  because 
they  are  the  rightest  people  I  know,  only  I  am  not  going 
to  save  quite  so  close  as  Pa,  and  if  I  died  for  it,  I  never 
could  converse  or  dance  like  Ma." 

"I  should  hope  not!"  said  Kate,  and  then  added  hast- 
ily, "it's  all  right  for  a  lady,  but  it  would  seem  rather  sissy 
for  a  man,  I  believe." 

"Yes,  I  guess  it  would,  but  it  is  language  let  me  tell 
you,  when  Ma  cuts  loose,"  said  Adam. 

"Hello,  Nancy  Ellen,"  said  Kate  as  Adam  stopped  the 
buggy-  "Put  my  telescope  in  the  back  with  the  horse 
feed.  Since  you  have  it,  I  don't  need  ask  whether  I  am 
the  Prodigal  Daughter  or  not.     I  see  clearly  I  am." 

Nancy  Ellen  was  worried,  until  she  was  pale. 

"  Kate,"  she  said,  "  I  never  have  seen  Father  so  angry 
in  all  my  life.  I  thought  last  night  that  in  a  day  or  two 
I  could  switch  the  school  over  to  Serena  Woodruff,  and 
go  on  with  my  plans,  but  Father  said  at  breakfast  if  the 
Bates  name  was  to  stand  for  anything  approaching 
honour,  a  Bates  would  teach  that  school  this  winter  or  he'd 
know  the  reason  why.  And  you  know  how  easy  it  is  to 
change  him.  Oh,  Kate,  won't  you  see  if  that  Walden 
trustee  can't  possibly  find  another  teacher,  and  let  you  off! 


80  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

I  know  Robert  will  be  disappointed,  for  he's  rented  his 
office  and  bought  a  house  and  he  said  last  night  to  get 
ready  as  soon  after  Christmas  as  I  could.  Oh,  Kate,  won't 
you  see  if  you  can't  possibly  get  that  man  to  hire  an- 
other teacher?" 

"Why,  Nancy  Ellen "  said  Kate. 

Nancy  Ellen,  with  a  twitching  face,  looked  at  Kate. 

"If  Robert  has  to  wait  months,  there  in  Hartley, 
handsome  as  he  is,  and  he  has  to  be  nice  to  everybody  to 
get  practice,  and  you  know  how  those  Hartley  girls 
are " 

"Yes,  Nancy  Ellen,  I  know,"  said  Kate.  "I'll  see 
what  I  can  do.  Is  it  understood  that  if  I  give  up  the 
school  and  come  back  and  take  ours,  Father  will  let  me 
come  home?" 

"Yes,  oh,  yes!"  cried  Nancy  Ellen. 

"Well,  nothing  goes  on  guess-work.  I'll  hear  him  say 
it,  myself,"  said  Kate. 

She  climbed  from  the  buggy.  Nancy  Ellen  caught 
her  arm. 

"Don't  go  in  there!  Don't  you  go  there,"  she  cried. 
"He'll  throw  the  first  thing  he  can  pick  up  at  you. 
Mother  says  he  hasn't  been  asleep  all  night." 

"Pooh!"  said  Kate.  "How  childish!  I  want  to  hear 
him  say  that,  and  he'll  scarcely  kill  me." 

She  walked  swiftly  to  the  side  door. 

"Father,"  she  said,  "Nancy  Ellen  is  afraid  she  will 
lose  Robert  Gray  if  she  has  to  put  off  her  marriage  for 
months " 


THE  PRODIGAL  DAUGHTER  8r 

Kate  stepped  back  quickly  as  a  chair  crashed  against 
the  door  facing.  She  again  came  into  view  and  continued 
— "so  she  asked  me  if  I  would  get  out  of  my  school  and 
come  back  if  I  could" — Kate  dodged  another  chair; 
when  she  appeared  again — "To  save  the  furniture,  of 
which  we  have  none  too  much,  I'll  just  step  inside,"  she 
said.  When  her  father  started  toward  her,  she  started 
around  the  dining  table,  talking  as  fast  as  she  could,  he 
lunging  after  her  like  a  furious  bull.  "She  asked  me  to 
come  back  and  teach  the  school — to  keep  her  from  put- 
ting off  her  wedding — because  she  is  afraid  to If  I  can 

break  my  contract  there — may  I  come  back  and  help  her 
out  here?" 

The  pace  was  going  more  swiftly  each  round,  it  was  punc- 
tuated at  that  instant  by  a  heavy  meat  platter  aimed  at 
Kate's  head.  She  saw  it  picked  up,  and  swayed  so  it 
missed. 

"I  guess  that  is  answer  enough  for  me,"  she  panted, 
racing  on.  "A  lovely  father  you  are — no  wonder  your 
daughters  are  dishonest  through  fear  of  you — no  wonder 
your  wife  has  no  mind  of  her  own — no  wonder  your  sons 
hate  you  and  wish  you  would  die — so  they  could  have 
their  deeds  and  be  like  men — instead  of  'spanked  school- 
boys' as  they  feel  now — no  wonder  the  whole  posse  of 
us  hate  you." 

Directly  opposite  the  door  Kate  caught  the  table  and 
drew  it  with  her  to  bar  the  opening.  As  it  crashed  against 
the  casings  half  the  dishes  flew  to  the  floor  in  a  heap. 
When  Adam  Bates  pulled  it  from  his  path  he  stepped  in 


82  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

a  dish  of  fried  potatoes  and  fell  heavily.  Kate  reached 
the  road,  climbed  in  the  buggy,  and  said  to  Nancy  Ellen : 
"You'd  better  hide!  Cut  a  bundle  of  stuff  and  send  it  to 
me  by  Adam  and  I'll  sew  my  fingers  to  the  bone  for  you 
every  night.     Now  drive  like  sin,  Adam!" 

As  Adam  Bates  came  lurching  down  the  walk  in  fury 
the  buggy  dashed  past  and  Kate  had  not  even  time  to 
turn  her  head  to  see  what  happened. 

"Take  the  first  turn,"  she  said  to  Adam.  "I've  done 
an  awful  thing." 

"What  did  you  do?"  cried  the  boy. 

"Asked  him  as  nicely  as  I  could;  but  he  threw  a  chair 
at  me.  Something  funny  happened  to  me,  and  I  wasn't 
afraid  of  him  at  all.  I  dodged  it  and  finished  what 
I  was  saying,  and  another  chair  came,  so  the  two  Bates 
went  at  it." 

"Oh,  Kate,  what  did  you  do?"  cried  Adam. 

"Went  inside  and  ran  around  the  dining  table  while 
I  told  him  what  all  his  sons  and  daughters  think  of  him. 
'Spanked  school-boys'  and  all " 

"Did  you  tell  him  my  father  said  that?"  he  demanded. 

"No.  I  had  more  sense  left  than  that,"  said  Kate. 
"I  only  said  all  his  boys  felt  like  that.  Then  I  pulled  the 
table  after  me  to  block  the  door,  and  smashed  half  the 
dishes  and  he  slipped  in  the  fried  potatoes  and  went  down 
with  a  crash " 

"Bloody  Murder!"  cried  young  Adam,  aghast. 

"Me,  too!"  said  Kate.  "I'll  never  step  in  that  house 
again  while  he  lives.     I've  spilled  the  beans,  now." 


THE  PRODIGAL  DAUGHTER  83 

"That  you  have,"  said  Adam,  slacking  his  horse  to 
glance  back.  "He  is  standing  in  the  middle  of  the  road 
shaking  his  fist  after  you." 

"Can  you  see  Nancy  Ellen?"  asked  Kate. 

"No.  She  must  have  climbed  the  garden  fence  and 
hidden  behind  the  privet  bush." 

"Well,  she  better  make  it  a  good  long  hide,  until  he 
has  had  plenty  of  time  to  cool  off.  He'd  have  killed  me 
if  he  had  caught  me,  after  he  fell — and  wasted  all  those 
potatoes  already  cooked " 

Kate  laughed  a  dry  hysterical  laugh,  but  the  boy  sat 
white-faced  and  awed. 

"Never  mind,"  said  Kate,  seeing  how  frightened  he  was. 
"When  he  has  had  plenty  of  time  he'll  cool  off;  but  he'll 
never  get  over  it.  I  hope  he  doesn't  beat  Mother,  be- 
cause I  was  born." 

"Oh,  drat  such  a  man!"  said  young  Adam.  "I  hope 
something  worse  than  this  happens  to  him.  If  ever  I  see 
Father  begin  to  be  the  least  bit  like  him  as  he  grows  older 
I  shall " 

"Well,  what  shall  you  do?"  asked  Kate,  as  he  paused. 

"Tell  Ma!"  cried  young  Adam,  emphatically. 

Kate  leaned  her  face  in  her  hands  and  laughed.  When 
she  could  speak  she  said:  "Do  you  know,  Adam,  I  think 
that  would  be  the  very  best  thing  you  could  do." 

"Why,  of  course!"  said  Adam. 

They  drove  swiftly  and  reached  Walden  before  ten 
o'clock.  There  they  inquired  their  way  to  the  home  of 
the  Trustee,  but  Kate  said  nothing  about  giving  up  the 


84  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

school.  She  merely  made  a  few  inquiries,  asked  for  the 
key  of  the  schoolhouse,  and  about  boarding  places.  She 
was  directed  to  four  among  which  she  might  choose. 

"Where  would  you  advise  me  to  go?"  she  asked  the 
Trustee. 

"Well,  now,  folks  differ,"  said  he.  "All  those  folks  is 
neighbours  of  mine  and  some  might  like  one,  and  some 
might  like  another,  best.  I  could  say  this:  I  think 
Means  would  be  the  cheapest,  Knowls  the  dearest,  but 
the  last  teacher  was  a  good  one,  an'  she  seemed  well  satis- 
fied with  the  Widder  Holt." 

"I  see,"  said  Kate,  smiling. 

Then  she  and  young  Adam  investigated  the  school- 
house  and  found  it  far  better  than  any  either  of  them  had 
ever  been  inside.  It  promised  every  comfort  and  con- 
venience, compared  with  schools  to  which  they  had  been 
accustomed,  so  they  returned  the  keys,  inquired  about  the 
cleaning  of  the  building,  and  started  out  to  find  a  boarding 
place.  First  they  went  to  the  cheapest,  but  it  could  be 
seen  at  a  glance  that  it  was  too  cheap,  so  they  eliminated 
that.  Then  they  'went  to  the  most  expensive,  but  xt 
was  obvious  from  the  house  and  grounds  that  board  there 
would  be  more  than  Kate  would  want  to  paj 

"I'd  like  to  save  my  digestion,  and  have  a  plact  in 
which  to  study,  where  I  won't  Freeze,"  said  Kate,  "but 
I  want  to  board  as  cheaply  as  I  can.  This  morning 
changes  my  plans  materially.  I  shall  want  to  go  to 
school  next  summer  part  of  the  time,  but  the  part  I  do 
not,  I  shall  have  to  pay  my  way,  so  I  mustn't  spend  money 


THE  PRODIGAL  DAUGHTER  85 

as  I  thought  I  would.  Not  one  of  you  will  dare  be  caught 
doing  a  thing  for  me.  To  make  you  safe  I'll  stay  away, 
but  it  will  cost  me  money  that  I'd  hoped  to  have  for 
clothes  like  other  girls." 

"It's  too  bad,"  said  Adam,  "but  I'll  stick  to  you,  and 
so  will  Ma." 

"Of  course  you  will,  you  dear  boy,"  said  Kate.  "Now 
let's  try  our  third  place;  it  is  not  far  from  here." 

Soon  they  found  the  house,  but  Kate  stopped  short  on 
sight  of  it. 

"Adam,  there  has  been  little  in  life  to  make  me  par- 
ticular," she  said,  "but  I  draw  the  line  at  that  house. 
I  would  go  crazy  in  a  house  painted  bright  red  with 
brown  and  blue  decoration.  It  should  be  prohibited  by 
law.  Let  us  hunt  up  the  Widder  Holt  and  see  how  her 
taste  in  colour  runs." 

"The  joke  is  on  you,"  said  Adam,  when  they  had  found 
the  house. 

It  was  near  the  school,  on  a  wide  shady  street  across 
which  big  maples  locked  branches.  There  was  a  large 
lot  filled  with  old  fruit  trees  and  long  grass,  with  a 
garden  at  the  back.  The  house  was  old  and  low,  having 
a  small  porch  in  'front,  but  if  it  ever  had  seen  paint,  it 
did  not  show  it  at  that  time.  It  was  a  warm  linty  gray, 
the  shingles  of  the  old  roof  almost  moss-covered. 

"The  joke  is  on  me,,"  said  Kate.  "I  shall  have  no 
quarrel  with  the  paint  here,  and  will  you  look  at  that  ?" 

Adam  looked  where  Kate  pointed  across  the  street, 
and  nodded. 


86  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

"That  ought  to  be  put  in  a  gold  frame,"  he  said. 

"I  think  so,  too,"  said  Kate.  "I  shouldn't  be  a  bit 
surprised  if  I  stay  where  I  can  see  it." 

They  were  talking  of  a  deep  gully  facing  the  house  and 
running  to  a  levee  where  the  street  crossed.  A  stream 
ran  down  it,  dipped  under  a  culvert,  turned  sharply,  and 
ran  away  to  a  distant  river,  spanning  which  they  could  see 
the  bridge.  Tall  old  forest  trees  lined  the  banks,  shrubs 
and  bushes  grew  in  a  thicket.  There  were  swaying,  clam- 
bering vines  and  a  babel  of  bird  notes  over  the 'seed  and 
berry  bearing  bushes. 

"Let's  go  inside,  and  if  we  agree,  then  we  will  get  some 
water  and  feed  the  horse  and  eat  our  lunch  over  there," 
said  Kate. 

"Just  the  thing!"  said  young  Adam.  "Come  and 
we  will  proceed  to  the  residence  of  Mrs.  Holt  and  in- 
vestigate her  possibilities.     How  do  you  like  that?" 

"That  is  fine,"  said  Kate  gravely. 

"It  is,"  said  Adam,  promptly,  "because  it  is  Ma. 
And  whatever  is  Ma,  is  right." 

"Good  for  you!"  cried  Kate.  "I  am  going  to  break 
a  Bates  record  and  kiss  you  good-bye,  when  you  go. 
I  probably  shan't  have  another  in  years.     Come  on." 

They  walked  up  the  grassy  wooden  walk,  stepped  on 
the  tiny,  vine-covered  porch,  and  lifted  and  dropped  a 
rusty  old  iron  knocker.  Almost  at  once  the  door  opened, 
to  reveal  a  woman  of  respectable  appearance,  a  trifle 
past  middle  age.  She  made  Kate  think  of  dried  sage 
because  she  had  a  dried-out  look  and  her  complexion, 


THE  PRODIGAL  DAUGHTER  87 

hair,  and  eyes  were  all  that  colour.  She  was  neat  and 
clean  while  the  hall  into  which  she  invited  them  was  clean 
and  had  a  wholesome  odour.  Kate  explained  her  errand. 
Mrs.  Holt  breathed  a  sigh  of  relief. 

"Well,  thank  goodness  I  was  before-handed,"  she  said. 
"The  teacher  stayed  here  last  year  and  she  was  satisfied,  so 
I  ast  the  Trustee  to  mention  me  to  the  new  teacher. 
Nobody  was  expecting  you  until  the  last  of  the  week, 
but  I  says  to  myself,  'always  take  time  by  the  fetlock, 
Samantha,  always  be  ready';  so  last  week  I  put  in  scouring 
my  spare  room  to  beat  the  nation,  and  it's  all  ready  so's 
you  can  walk  right  in." 

"Thank  you,"  said  Kate,  rather  resenting  the  assump- 
tion that  she  was  to  have  no  option  in  the  matter.  "I 
have  four  places  on  my  list  where  they  want  the  teacher^ 
so  I  thought  I  would  look  at  each  of  them  and  then  de- 
cide." 

"My, ain't  we  choicey !"  said  Mrs.  Holt  in  sneering  tones. 
Then  she  changed  instantly,  and  in  suave  commendation 
went  on:  "That's  exactly  right.  That's  the  very 
thing  fer  you  to  do.  After  you  have  seen  what  Walden 
has  to  offer,  then  a  pretty  young  thing  like  you  can  make 
up  your  mind  where  you  will  have  the  most  quiet  fer 
your  work,  the  best  room,  and  be  best  fed.  One  of  the 
greatest  advantages  here  fer  a  teacher  is  that  she  can  be 
quiet,  an'  not  have  her  room  rummaged.  Every  place 
else  that  takes  boarders  there's  a  lot  of  children;  here 
there  is  only  me  and  my  son,  and  he  is  grown  and  will  be 
off"  to  his  medical  work  next  week  fer  the  year,  so  all  your 


88  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

working  time  here,  you'd  be  alone  with  me.  This  is  the 
room." 

"That  surely  would  be  a  great  advantage,  because  I 
have  much  studying  to  do,"  said  Kate  as  they  entered  the 
room. 

With  one  glance,  she  liked  it.  It  was  a  large  room  with 
low  ceiling,  quaintly  papered  in  very  old  creamy  paper, 
scattered  with  delicately  cut  green  leaves,  but  so  carefully 
had  the  room  been  kept,  that  it  was  still  clean.  There 
were  four  large  windows  to  let  in  light  and  air,  freshly 
washed  white  curtains  hanging  over  the  deep  green 
shades.  The  floor  was  carpeted  with  a  freshly  washed 
rag  carpet  stretched  over  straw,  the  bed  was  invitingly 
clean  and  looked  comfortable,  there  was  a  wash  stand 
with  bowl  and  pitcher,  soap  and  towels,  a  small  table 
with  a  lamp,  a  straight-backed  chair  and  a  rocking  chair. 
Mrs.  Holt  opened  a  large  closet  having  hooks  for  dresses  at 
one  end  and  shelves  at  the  other.  On  the  top  of  these 
there  were  a  comfort  and  a  pair  of  heavy  blankets. 

"Your  winter  covers,"  said  Mrs.  Holt,  indicating 
these,  "and  there  is  a  good  stove  I  take  out  in  summer  to 
make  more  room,  and  set  up  as  soon  as  it  gets  cold,  and 
that  is  a  wood  box." 

She  pointed  out  a  shoe  box  covered  with  paper  similar 
to  that  on  the  walls. 

Kate  examined  the  room  carefully,  the  bed,  the  closet, 
and  tried  the  chairs.  Behind  the  girl,  Mrs.  Holt,  with 
compressed  lips,  forgetting  Adam's  presence,  watched  in 
evident  disapproval. 


THE  PRODIGAL  DAUGHTER  89 

"I  want  to  see  the  stove,"  said  Kate. 

"It  is  out  in  the  woodhouse.  It  hasn't  been  cleaned  up 
for  the  winter  yet." 

"Then  it  won't  be  far  away.     Let's  look  at  it." 

Almost  wholly  lacking  experience,  Kate  was  pro- 
ceeding by  instinct  in  exactly  the  same  way  her  father 
would  have  taken  through  experience.  Mrs.  Holt  hesi- 
tated, then  turned:  "Oh,  very  well,"  she  said,  leading 
the  way  down  the  hall,  through  the  dining  room,  which 
was  older  in  furnishing  and  much  more  worn,  but  still 
clean  and  wholesome,  as  were  the  small  kitchen  and  back 
porch.  From  it  there  was  only  a  step  to  the  woodhouse, 
where  on  a  little  platform  across  one  end  sat  two  small 
stoves  for  burning  wood,  one  so  small  as  to  be  tiny.  Kate 
walked  to  the  larger,  lifted  the  top,  looked  inside,  tried 
the  dampers  and  drafts  and  turning  said:  "That  is  very 
small.     It  will  require  more  wood  than  a  larger  one." 

Mrs.  Holt  indicated  dry  wood  corded  to  the  roof. 

"We  git  all  our  wood  from  the  thicket  across  the  way. 
That  little  strip  an'  this  lot  is  all  we  have  left  of  father's 
farm.  We  kept  this  to  live  on,  and  sold  the  rest  for  town 
lots,  all  except  that  gully,  which  we  couldn't  give  away. 
But  I  must  say  I  like  the  trees  and  birds  better  than 
mebby  I'd  like  people  who  might  live  there;  we  always 
git  our  wood  from  it,  and  the  shade  an'  running  water 
make  it  the  coolest  place  in  town." 

"Yes,  I  suppose  they  do,"  said  Kate. 

She  took  one  long  look  at.  everything  as  they  returned 
to  the  hall. 


90  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

"The  Trustee  told  me  your  terms  are  four  dollars  and 
fifty  cents  a  week,  furnishing  food  and  wood,"  she  said, 
"and  that  you  allowed  the  last  teacher  to  do  her  own 
washing  on  Saturday,  for  nothing.     Is  that  right?" 

The  thin  lips  drew  more  tightly.  Mrs.  Holt  looked  at 
Kate  from  head  to  foot  in  close  scrutiny. 

"I  couldn't  make  enough  to  pay  the  extra  work  at 
that,"  she  said.  "I  ought  to  have  a  dollar  more,  to  really 
come  out  even.     I'll  have  to  say  five-fifty  this  fall." 

"If  that  is  the  case,  good-bye,"  said  Kate.  "Thank 
you  very  much  for  showing  me.  Five-fifty  is  what  I 
paid  at  Normal,  it  is  more  than  I  can  afford  in  a  village 
like  this." 

She  turned  away,  followed  by  Adam.  They  crossed 
the  street,  watered  the  horse  at  the  stream,  placed  his 
food  conveniently  for  him,  and  taking  their  lunch  box, 
seated  themselves  on  a  grassy  place  on  the  bank  and 
began  eating. 

"Wasn't  that  a  pretty  nice  room?"  asked  Adam. 
"Didn't  you  kind  of  hate  to  give  it  up." 

"I  haven't  the  slightest  intention  of  giving  it  up," 
answered  Kate.  "That  woman  is  a  skin-flint  and  I  don't 
propose  to  let  her  beat  me.  No  doubt  she  was  glad  to  get 
four-fifty  last  fall.  She's  only  trying  to  see  if  she  can  wring 
me  for  a  dollar  more.  If  I  have  to  board  all  next  summer, 
I  shall  have  to  watch  every  penny,  or  I'll  not  come  out 
even,  let  alone  saving  anything.  I'll  wager  you  a  nickel 
that  before  we  leave,  she  comes  over  here  and  offers  me 
the  room  at  the  same  price  she  got  last  winter." 


THE  PRODIGAL  DAUGHTER  91 

"I  hope  you  are  right,"  said  Adam.  "How  do  you 
like  her?" 

"Got  a  grouch,  nasty  temper,  mean  disposition;  clean 
house,  good  room,  good  cook — maybe;  lives  just  on  the 
edge  of  comfort  by  daily  skimping,"  summarized  Kate. 

"If  she  comes,  are  you  going  to  try  it?"  asked  Adam. 

"Yes,  I  think  I  shall.  It  is  nearest  my  purse  and  re- 
quirements and  if  the  former  teacher  stayed  there,  it  will 
seem  all  right  for  me;  but  she  isn't  going  to  put  that  little 
stove  in  my  room.  It  wouldn't  heat  the  closet.  How  did 
you  like  her?" 

"Not  much!"  said  Adam,  promptly.  "If  glaring  at 
yourback  could  have  killed  you,  you  would  have  fallen  dead 
when  you  examined  the  closet,  and  bedding,  and  stove. 
She  honeyed  up  when  she  had  to,  but  she  was  mad  as 
hops.  I  nearly  bursted  right  out  when  she  talked  about 
'taking  time  by  the  fetlock.'  I  wanted  to  tell  her  she 
looked  like  she  had,  and  almost  got  the  life  kicked  out  of 
her  doing  it,  but  I  thought  I'd  better  not." 

Kate  laughed.  "Yes,  I  noticed,"  she  said,  "but  I 
dared  not  look  at  you.  I  was  afraid  you'd  laugh.  Isn't 
this  a  fine  lunch?" 

"Bet  your  life  it  is,"  said  Adam.  "Ma  never  puts  up 
any  other  kind." 

"I  wish  someone  admired  me  as  much  as  you  do  your 
mother,  Adam,"  said  Kate. 

"Well,  you  be  as  nice  as  Ma,  and  somebody  is  sure  to," 
said  he. 

"But  I  never  could,"  said  Kate. 


92  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

"Oh,  yes,  you  could,"  said  Adam,"if  you  would  only  set 
yourself  to  do  it  and  try  with  all  your  might  to  be  like  her. 
Look,  quick !  That  must  be  her  '  Medical  Course' 
man!" 

Kate  glanced  across  the  way  and  saw  a  man  she  thought 
to  be  about  thirty  years  of  age.  He  did  not  resemble 
his  mother  in  any  particular,  if  he  was  the  son  of  Mrs. 
Holt.  He  was  above  the  average  man  in  height,  having 
broad,  rather  stooping  shoulders,  dark  hair  and  eyes.  He 
stopped  at  the  gate  and  stood  a  few  seconds  looking  at 
them,  so  they  could  not  very  well  study  him  closely,  then 
he  went  up  the  walk  with  loose,  easy  stride  and  entered 
the  house. 

"Yes,  that  is  her  son,"  said  Kate.  "That  is  exactly  the 
way  a  man  enters  a  house  that  belongs  to  him." 

"That  isn't  the  way  I  am  going  to  enter  my  house," 
said  Adam.     "Now  what  shall  we  do?" 

"Rest  half  an  hour  while  they  talk  it  over,  and  then 
get  ready  to  go  very  deliberately.  If  she  doesn't  come 
across,  literally  and  figuratively,  we  hunt  another  board- 
ing place." 

"I  half  believe  she  will  come,"  said  Adam.  "She  is 
watching  us;  I  can  see  her  pull  back  the  blind  of  her  room 
to  peep." 

"Keep  looking  ahead.  Don't  let  her  think  you  see 
her.  Let's  go  up  the  creek  and  investigate  this  ravine. 
Isn't  it  a  lovely  place?" 

"Yes.  I'm  glad  you  got  it,"  said  Adam,  "that  is,  if 
she  comes  across.     I  will  think  of  you  as  having  it  to  Icok 


THE  PRODIGAL  DAUGHTER  93 

at  in  summer;  and  this  winter — my,  what  rabbit  hunting 
there  will  be,  and  how  pretty  it  will  look!" 

So  they  went  wandering  up  the  ravine,  sometimes  on 
one  bank,  sometimes  crossing  stepping-stones  or  logs  to 
the  other,  looking,  talking,  until  fully  an  hour  had  passed 
when  they  returned  to  the  buggy.  Adam  began  changing 
the  halter  for  the  bridle  while  Kate  shook  out  the  lap 
robe. 

"Nickel,  please,"  whispered  Kate. 

Adam  glanced  across  the  street  to  see  Mrs.  Holt  coming. 
She  approached  them  and  with  no  preliminaries  said: 
"I  have  been  telling  my  son  about  you  an'  he  hates  so  bad 
to  go  away  and  leave  me  alone  for  the  winter,  that  he  says 
to  take  you  at  the  same  as  the  last  teacher,  even  if  I  do 
lose  money  on  il  " 

"Oh,  you  wouldn't  do  that,  Mrs.  Holt,"  said  Kate,  care- 
lessly. "Of  course  it  is  for  you  to  decide.  I  like  the  room, 
and  if  the  board  was  right  for  the  other  teacher  it  will  be 
for  me.  If  you  want  me  to  stay,  I'll  bring  my  things  over 
and  take  the  room  at  once.     If  not,  I'll  look  farther." 

"Come  right  over,"  said  Mrs.  Holt,  cordially.  "I  am 
anxious  to  git  on  the  job  of  mothering  such  a  sweet  young 
lady.     What  will  you  have  for  your  supper?" 

"Whatever  you  are  having,"  said  Kate,  "I  am  not 
accustomed  to  ordering  my  meals.  Adam,  come  and 
help  me  unpack." 

In  half  an  hour  Kate  had  her  dresses  on  the  hooks, 
her  underclothing  on  the  shelves,  her  books  on  the  table, 
her  pencils  and  pen  in  the  robin  cup,  and  was  saying  good- 


94  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

bye  to  Adam  and  telling  him  what  to  tell  his  father, 
mother,  and  Nancy  Ellen — if  he  could  get  a  stolen  inter- 
view with  her  on  the  way  home.  He  also  promised  to 
write  Kate  what  happened  about  the  home  school  and 
everything  in  which  she  would  be  interested.  Then  she 
went  back  to  her  room,  sat  in  the  comfortable  rocking 
chair,  and  with  nothing  in  the  world  she  was  obliged  to 
do  immediately,  she  stared  at  the  opposite  wall  and  day 
by  day  reviewed  the  summer.  She  sat  so  long  and  stared 
at  the  wall  so  intently  that  gradually  it  dissolved  and 
shaped  into  the  deep  green  ravine  across  the  way,  which 
sank  into  soothing  darkness  and  then  slowly  lightened 
until  a  peep  of  gold  came  over  the  tree  tops;  and  then, 
a  red  sun  crept  up  having  a  big  wonderful  wide- 
spread wing  on  each  side  of  it.  Kate's  head  fell  with  a 
jerk  which  awakened  her,  so  she  arose,  removed  her 
dress,  washed  and  brushed  her  hair,  put  on  a  fresh  dress 
and  taking  a  book,  she  crossed  the  street  and  sat  on  the 
bank  of  the  stream  again,  which  she  watched  instead  of 
reading,  as  she  had  intended. 


CHAPTER  VI 

Kate's  Private  Pupil 

AT  FIRST  Kate  merely  sat  in  a  pleasant  place 
/%  and  allowed  her  nerves  to  settle,  after  the 
JL  JL  short  nap  she  had  enjoyed  in  the  rocking  chair. 
It  was  such  a  novel  experience  for  her  to  sit  idle, 
that  despite  the  attractions  of  growing  things,  running 
water,  and  singing  birds,  she  soon  veered  to  thoughts  of 
what  she  would  be  doing  if  she  were  at  home,  and  that 
brought  her  to  the  fact  that  she  was  forbidden  her  father's 
house;  so  if  she  might  not  go  there,  she  was  home- 
less. As  she  had  known  her  father  for  nearly  nineteen 
years,  for  she  had  a  birth  anniversary  coming  in  a  few 
days,  she  felt  positive  that  he  never  would  voluntarily 
see  her  again,  while  with  his  constitution,  he  would  live 
for  years.  She  might  as  well  face  the  fact  that  she  was 
homeless;  and  prepare  to  pay  her  way  all  the  year  round. 
She  wondered  why  she  felt  so  forlorn  and  what  made  the 
dull  ache  in  her  throat. 

She  remembered  telling  Nancy  Ellen  before  going  away 
to  Normal  that  she  wished  her  father  would  drive  her  from 
home.  Now  that  was  accomplished.  She  was  away 
from  home,  in  a  place  where  there  was  not  one  familiar 
face,  object,  or  plan  of  life,  but  she  did  not  wish  for  it  at 

9S 


96  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

all.  She  devoutly  wished  that  she  were  back  at  home  even 
if  she  were  preparing  supper,  in  order  that  Nancy  Ellen 
might  hem  towels.  She  wondered  what  they  were  saying: 
her  mind  was  crystal  clear  as  to  what  they  were  doing. 
She  wondered  if  Nancy  Ellen  would  send  Adam,  3d,  with 
a  parcel  of  cut-out  sewing  for  her  to  work  on.  She  resolved 
to  sew  quickly  and  with  stitches  of  machine-like  evenness, 
if  it  came.  She  wondered  if  Nancy  Ellen  would  be  com- 
pelled to  put  off  her  wedding  and  teach  the  home  school 
in  order  that  it  might  be  taught  by  a  Bates,  as  her  father 
had  demanded.  She  wondered  if  Nancy  Ellen  was 
forced  to  this  uncongenial  task,  whether  it  would  sour  the 
wonderful  sweetness  developed  by  her  courtship,  and  make 
her  so  provoked  that  she  would  not  write  or  have  anything 
to  do  with  her.  They  were  nearly  the  same  age;  they 
had  shared  rooms,  and,  until  recently,  beds,  and  whatever 
life  brought  them;  now  Kate  lifted  her  head  and  ran 
her  hand  against  her  throat  to  ease  the  ache  gathering 
there  more  intensely  every  minute.  With  eyes  that  did 
not  see,  she  sat  staring  at  the  sheer  walls  of  the  ravine 
as  it  ran  toward  the  east,  where  the  water  came 
tumbling  and  leaping  down  over  stones  and  shale  bed. 
When  at  last  she  arose  she  had  learned  one  lesson,  not  in 
the  History  she  carried.  No  matter  what  its  disadvan- 
tages are,  having  a  home  of  any  kind  is  vastly  preferable 
to  having  none.  And  the  casualness  of  people  so  driven 
by  the  demands  of  living  and  money  making  that  they 
do  not  take  time  even  to  be  slightly  courteous  and  kind, 
no  matter  how  objectionable  it  may  be,  still  that,  even 


KATE'S  PRIVATE  PUPIL  97 

that,  is  better  than  their  active  displeasure.  So  she  sat 
brooding  and  going  over  and  over  the  summer,  arguing 
her  side  of  the  case,  honestly  trying  to  see  theirs,  until 
she  was  mentally  exhausted  and  still  had  accomplished 
nothing  further  than  arriving  at  the  conclusion  that  if 
Nancy  Ellen  was  forced  to  postpone  her  wedding  she 
would  turn  against  her  and  influence  Robert  Gray  in  the 
same  feeling. 

Then  Kate  thought  of  Him.  She  capitalized  him  in 
her  thought,  for  after  nineteen  years  of  Bates  men  Robert 
Gray  would  seem  a  deified  creature  to  their  women. 
She  reviewed  the  scene  at  the  crossing  log,  while  her  face 
flushed  with  pleasure.  If  she  had  remained  at  home  and 
had  gone  after  the  blackberries,  as  it  was  sure  as  fate  that 
she  would  have  done,  then  she  would  have  met  him  first, 
and  he  would  have  courted  her  instead  of  Nancy  Ellen. 
Suddenly  Kate  shook  herself  savagely  and  sat  straight. 
"Why,  you  big  fool!"  she  said.  "Nancy  Ellen  went  to 
the  berry  patch  in  a  pink  dress,  wearing  a  sunbonnet  to 
match,  and  carrying  a  blue  bowl.  Think  of  the  picture 
she  made!  But  if  I  had  gone,  I'd  have  been  in  a  ragged 
old  dirt-coloured  gingham,  Father's  boots,  and  his  old 
straw  hat  jammed  down  to  my  ears;  I'd  have  been  hot 
and  in  a  surly  temper,  rebelling  because  I  had  the  berries 
to  pick.  He  would  have  taken  one  look  at  me,  jumped 
the  fence,  and  run  to  Lang's  for  dear  life.  Better  cut 
that  idea  right  out!" 

So  Kate  "cut  that  idea  out"  at  once,  but  the  operation 
was  painful,  because  when  one  turns  mental  surgeon  and 


98  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

operates  on  the  ugly  spots  in  one's  disposition,  there  is  no 
anaesthetic,  nor  is  the  work  done  with  skilful  hands,  so 
the  wounds  are  numerous  and  leave  ugly  scars;  but 
Kate  was  ruthless.  She  resolved  never  to  think  of  that 
brook  scene  again.  In  life,  as  she  had  lived  it,  she  would 
not  have  profited  by  having  been  first  at  the  berry  patch. 
Yet  she  had  a  right  to  think  of  Robert  Gray's  face,  grave 
in  concern  for  her,  his  offers  to  help,  the  influence  he  would 
have  in  her  favour  with  Nancy  Ellen.  Of  course  if  he  was 
forced  to  postpone  his  wedding  he  would  not  be  pleased; 
but  it  was  impossible  that  the  fears  which  were  tor- 
menting Nancy  Ellen  would  materialize  into  action  on  his 
part.  No  sane  man  loved  a  woman  as  beautiful  as  her 
sister  and  cast  her  aside  because  of  a  few  months'  enforced 
waiting,  the  cause  of  which  he  so  very  well  knew;  but  it 
would  make  both  of  them  unhappy  and  change  their 
beautiful  plans,  after  he  even  had  found  and  purchased 
the  house.  Still  Nancy  Ellen  said  that  her  father  was 
making  it  a  point  of  honour  that  a  Bates  should  teach 
the  school,  because  he  had  signed  the  contract  for  Kate 
to  take  the  place  Nancy  Ellen  had  intended  to  fill,  and 
then  changed  her  plans.  He  had  sworn  that  a  Bates 
should  teach  the  school.  Well,  Hiram  had  taken  the  county 
examination,  as  all  pupils  of  the  past  ten  years  had 
when  they  finished  the  country  schools.  It  was  a  test 
required  to  prove  whether  they  had  done  their  work  well. 
Hiram  held  a  certificate  for  a  year,  given  him  by  the 
County  Superintendent,  when  he  passed  the  examinations. 
He  had  never  used  it.     He  could  teach;  he  was'  Nancy 


KATE'S  PRIVATE  PUPIL  99 

Ellen's  twin.  School  did  not  begin  until  the  first  of 
November.  He  could  hire  help  with  his  corn  if  he  could 
not  finish  alone.  He  could  arise  earlier  than  usual  and 
do  his  feeding  and  milking;  he  could  clean  the  stables  and 
haul  wood  on  Saturday  and  Sunday,  if  he  must,  for  the 
Bates  family  looked  on  Sunday  more  as  a  day  of  rest  for 
the  horses  and  physical  man  than  as  one  of  religious 
observances.  They  always  worked  if  there  was  anything 
to  be  gained  by  it.  Six  months  being  the  term,  he  would 
be  free  by  the  first  of  May;  surely  the  money  would  be 
an  attraction,  while  Nancy  Ellen  could  coach  him  on  any 
new  methods  she  had  learned  at  Normal.  Kate  sprang 
to  her  feet,  ran  across  the  street,  and  entering  the  hall, 
hurried  to  her  room.  She  found  Mrs.  Holt  there  in 
the  act  of  closing  her  closet  door.  Kate  looked  at  her 
with  astonished  eyes. 

"I  was  just  telling  my  son,"  Mrs.  Holt  said  rather 
breathlessly,  "that  I  would  take  a  peep  and  see  if  I  had 
forgot  to  put  your  extra  covers  on  the  shelf." 

Kate  threw  her  book  on  the  bed  and  walked  to  the 
table.  She  had  experienced  her  share  of  battle  for  the 
day.  "No  children  to  rummage,"  passed  through  her 
brain.  It  was  the  final  week  of  hot,  dry  August  weather, 
while  a  point  had  been  made  of  calling  her  attention  to 
the  extra  cover  when  the  room  had  been  shown  her. 
She  might  have  said  these  things,  but  why  say  them? 
The  shamed  face  of  the  woman  convicted  her  of  "rum- 
maging," as  she  had  termed  it.  Without  a  word  Kate 
sat  down  beside  the   table,    drew   her  writing  material 


ioo  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

before  her,  and  began  addressing  an  envelope  to  her 
brother  Hiram.  Mrs.  Holt  left  the  room,  disliking  Kate 
more  than  if  she  had  said  what  the  woman  knew  she 
thought. 

Kate  wrote  briefly,  convincingly,  covering  every  objec- 
tion and  every  advantage  she  could  conceive,  and  then 
she  added  the  strongest  plea  she  could  make.  What 
Hiram  would  do,  she  had  no  idea.  As  with  all  Bates 
men, land  was  his  God,  but  it  required  money  to  improve  it. 
He  would  feel  timid  about  making  a  first  attempt  to 
teach  after  he  was  married  and  the  father  of  a  child,  but 
Nancy  Ellen's  marriage  would  furnish  plausible  excuse; 
all  of  the  family  had  done  their  school  work  as  perfectly 
as  all  work  they  undertook;  he  could  teach  if  he  wanted 
to;  would  he  want  to?  If  he  did,  at  least,  she  would  be 
sure  of  the  continued  friendship  of  her  sister  and  Robert 
Gray.  Suddenly  Kate  understood  what  that  meant  to 
her  as  she  had  not  realized  before.  She  was  making  long 
strides  toward  understanding  herself,  which  is  the  most 
important  feature  of  any  life. 

She  sent  a  line  of  pleading  to  her  sister-in-law,  a  word 
of  love  to  the  baby,  and  finishing  her  letter,  started  to  post 
it,  as  she  remembered  the  office  was  only  a  few  steps  down 
the  street.  In  the  hall  it  occurred  to  her  that  she  was  the 
"Teacher"  now,  and  so  should  be  an  example.  Possibly 
the  women  of  Walden  did  not  run  bareheaded  down  the 
street  on  errands.  She  laid  the  letter  on  a  small  shelf 
of  an  old  hatrack,  and  stepped  back  to  her  room  to  put 
on  her  hat.     Her  return  was  so  immediate  that  Mrs. 


KATE'S  PRIVATE  PUPIL  101 

Holt  had  the  letter  in  her  fingers  when  Kate  came  back, 
and  was  reading  the  address  so  intently,  that  with  extended 
hand,  the  girl  said  in  cold  tones:  "My  letter,  please!'* 
before  the  woman  realized  she  was  there.  Their  eyes  met 
in  a  level  look.  Mrs.  Holt's  mouth  opened  in  ready  excuse, 
but  this  time  Kate's  temper  overcame  her  better  judgment. 

"Can  you  read  it  clearly,  without  your  glasses?"  she 
asked  politely.  "I  wouldn't  for  the  world  have  you  make 
a  mistake  as  to  whom  my  letter  is  addressed.  It  goes 
to  my  brother  Hiram  Bates,  youngest  son  of  Adam  Bates, 
Bates  Corners,  Hartley,  Indiana." 

"I  was  going  to  give  it  to  my  son,  so  that  he  could  take 
it  to  the  ofiice,"  said  Mrs.  Holt. 

"And  I  am  going  to  take  it  myself,  as  I  know  your  son 
is  down  town  and  I  want  it  to  go  over  on  the  evening 
hack,  so  it  will  be  sure  to  go  out  early  in  the  morning." 

Surprise  overcame  Mrs.  Holt's  discomfiture. 

"Land  sakes!"  she  cried.  "Bates  is  such  a  common 
name  it  didn't  mean  a  thing  to  me.  Be  you  a  daughter 
of  Adam  Bates,  the  Land  King,  of  Bates  Corners?" 

"I  be,"  said  Kate  tersely. 

"Well,  I  never!  All  them  hundreds  of  acres  of  land  an' 
money  in  the  bank  an'  mortgages  on  half  his  neighbours. 
Whut  the  nation!  An'  no  more  or  better  clo's  an'  you 
got!  An' teachin' school!  I  never  heard  of  the  like  in  all 
my  days!" 

"If  you  have  Bates  history  down  so  fine,  you  should 
know  that  every  girl  of  the  entire  Bates  family  has  taught 
from  the  time  she  finished  school  until  she  married.     Also 


102  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

we  never  buy  more  clothing  than  we  need,  or  of  the  kind 
not  suitable  for  our  work.  This  may  explain  why  we  own 
some  land  and  have  a  few  cents  in  the  Bank.  My  letter, 
please." 

Kate  turned  and  went  down  the  street,  a  dull  red  tinge- 
ing  her  face.  "I  could  hate  that  woman  cordially  with- 
out half  trying,"  she  said. 

The  house  was  filled  with  the  odour  of  cooking  food 
when  she  returned  and  soon  she  was  called  to  supper. 
As  she  went  to  the  chair  indicated  for  her,  a  step  was 
heard  in  the  hall.  Kate  remained  standing  and  when  a 
young  man  entered  the  room  Mrs.  Holt  at  once  intro- 
duced her  son,  George.  He  did  not  take  the  trouble  to 
step  around  the  table  and  shake  hands,  but  muttered  a 
gruff  "howdy  do?"  and  seating  himself,  at  once  picked  up 
the  nearest  dish  and  began  filling  his  plate. 

His  mother  would  have  had  matters  otherwise.  "Why, 
George,"  she  chided.  "What's  your  hurry?  Why  don't 
you  brush  up  and  wait  on  Miss  Bates  first?" 

"Oh,  if  she  is  going  to  be  one  of  the  family,"  he  said,  "she 
will  have  to  learn  to  get  on  without  much  polly-foxing. 
Grub  is  to  eat.     We  can  all  reach  at  a  table  of  this  size." 

Kate  looked  at  George  Holt  with  a  searching  glance. 
Surely  he  was  almost  thirty,  of  average  height,  appeared 
strong,  and  as  if  he  might  have  a  forceful  brain;  but  he  was 
loosely  jointed  and  there  was  a  trace  of  domineering  selfish- 
ness on  his  face  that  was  repulsive  to  her.  "I  could  hate 
that  man  cordially,  without  half  trying,"  she  thought  to 
herself,  smiling  faintly  at  the  thought. 


KATE'S  PRIVATE  PUPIL  103 

The  sharp  eyes  of  Mrs.  Holt  detected  the  smile.  She 
probably  would  have  noticed  it,  if  Kate  had  merely 
thought  of  smiling. 

"Why  do  you  smile,  my  dear?"  she  asked  in  melting 
tone. 

"Oh,  I  was  feeling  so  at  home,"  answered  Kate, 
suavely.  "Father  and  the  boys  hold  exactly  those 
opinions  and  practise  them  in  precisely  the  same  way; 
only  if  I  were  to  think  about  it  at  all,  I  should  think 
that  a  man  within  a  year  of  finishing  a  medical  course 
would  begin  exercising  politeness  with  every  woman 
he  meets.  I  believe  a  doctor  depends  on  women  to  be 
most  of  his  patients,  and  women  don't  like  a  rude 
doctor." 

"Rot!"  said  George  Holt. 

"Miss  Bates  is  exactly  right,"  said  his  mother.  "Ain't 
I  been  tellin'  you  the  whole  endurin'  time  that  you'd  never 
get  a  call  unless  you  practised  manners  as  well  as  medi- 
cine?    Ain't  I,  now?" 

"Yes,  you  have,"  he  said,  angrily.  "But  if  you  think 
all  of  a  sudden  that  manners  are  so  essential,  why  didn't 
you  hammer  some  into  me  when  you  had  the  whip  hand 
and  could  do  what  you  pleased?  You  didn't  find  any 
fault  witl    my  manners,  then." 

"How  of  all  the  world  was  I  to  know  that  you'd  grow 
up  and 'go  in  for  doctorin'?  I  s'pos'd  then  you'd  take  the 
farm  an'  run  it  like  your  pa  did,  stead  of  forcin'  me  to  sell 
it  off  by  inches  to  live,  an*  then  you  wastin'  half  the 
money." 


io4  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

"Go  it,  Mother,"  said  George  Holt,  rudely.  "Tell  all 
you  know,  and  then  piece  out  with  anything  you  can  think 
of  that  you  don't." 

Mrs.  Holt's  face  flushed  crimson.  She  looked  at  Kate 
and  said  vindictively:  "If  you  want  any  comfort  in  life, 
never  marry  and  bring  a  son  inter  the  world.  You  kin 
humour  him,  and  cook  for  him,  an  work  your  hands  to 
the  bone  fur  him,  and  sell  your  land,  and  spend  all  you 
can  raise  educatin'  him  for  half  a  dozen  things,  an' 
him  never  stickin  to  none  or  payin'  back  a  cent,  but  sass 
in  your  old  age " 

"Go  it,  Mother,  you're  doing  fine!"  said  George.  "If 
you  keep  on  Miss  Bates  will  want  to  change  her  boarding 
place  before  morning." 

"It  will  not  be  wholly  your  mother's  fault,  if  I  do," 
said  Kate.  "I  would  suggest  that  if  we  can't  speak 
civilly,  we  eat  our  supper  in  silence.  This  is  very  good 
food;  I  could  enjoy  it,  if  I  had  a  chance." 

She  helped  herself  to  another  soda  biscuit  and  a  second 
piece  of  fried  chicken  and  calmly  began  eating  them. 

"That's  a  good  idy!"  said  Mrs.  Holt. 

"Then  why  don't  you  practise  it?"  said  her  son. 

Thereupon  began  a  childish  battle  for  the  last  word. 
Kate  calmly  arose,  picked  up  her  plate,  walked  from 
the  room,  down  the  hall,  and  entering  her  own  room, 
closed  the  door  quietly. 

"You  fool!  You  great  big  dunderheaded  fool!"  cried 
Mrs.  Holt.  "Now  you  have  done  it,  for  the  thousandth 
time.     She  will  start  out  in  less  than  no  time  to  find  some 


KATE'S  PRIVATE  PUPIL  105 

place  else  to  stay,  an'  who  could  blame  her?  Don't  you 
know  who  she  is?  Ain't  you  sense  in  your  head?  If 
there  was  ever  a  girl  you  ort  to  go  after,  and  go  quick  an' 
hard,  there  she  is!" 

"What?    That  big  beef!     What  for?"  asked  George. 

"You  idjit!  You  idjit!  Don't  you  sense  that  she's 
a  daughter  of  Adam  Bates?  Him  they  call  the  Land 
King.  Ain't  you  sense  ner  reason  ?  Drive  her  from  the 
house,  will  you?  An'  me  relyin'  on  sendin'  you  half  her 
board  money  to  help  you  out?     You  fool!" 

"Why  under  the  Heavens  didn't  you  tell  me?  How 
could  I  know?  No  danger  but  the  bowl  is  upset,  and  it's 
all  your  fault.  She  should  be  worth  ten  thousand,  maybe 
twenty ! " 

"I  never  knew  till  jist  before  supper.  I  got  it  frum  a 
letter  she  wrote  to  her  brother.  I'd  no  chanct  to  tell  you. 
Course  I  meant  to,  first  chanct  I  had;  but  you  go  to  work 
an  upset  everything  before  I  get  a  chanct.  You  never 
did  amount  to  anything,  an'  you  never  will." 

"Oh,  well,  now  stop  that.  I  didn't  know.  I  thought 
she  was  just  common  truck.  I'll  fix  it  up  with  her  right 
after  supper.     Now  shut  up." 

"You  can't  do  it!  It's  gone  too  far.  She'll  leave  the 
house  inside  fifteen  minutes,"  said  Mrs.  Holt. 

"Well,  I'll  just  show  you,"  he  boasted. 

George  Holt  pushed  back  his  plate,  wiped  his  mouth, 
brushed  his  teeth  at  the  washing  place  on  the  back  porch, 
and  sauntered  around  the  house  to  seat  himself  on  the 
front  porch  steps.     Kate  saw  him  there  and   remained 


106  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

in  her  room.  When  he  had  waited  an  hour  he  arose 
and  tapped  on  her  door.     Kate  opened  it. 

"Miss  Bates,"  he  said.  "I  have  been  doing  penance 
an  hour.  I  am  very  sorry  I  was  such  a  boor.  I  was  in 
earnest  when  I  said  I  didn't  get  the  gad  when  I  needed  it. 
I  had  a  big  disappointment  to-day,  and  I  came  in  sore 
and  cross.  I  am  ashamed  of  myself,  but  you  will 
never  see  me  that  way  again.  I  know  I  will  make  a 
failure  of  my  profession  if  I  don't  be  more  polite  than 
Mother  ever  taught  me  to  be.  Won't  you  let  me  be 
your  scholar,  too?  Please  do  come  over  to  the  ravine 
where  it  is  cool  and  give  me  my  first  lesson.  I  need  you 
dreadfully." 

Kate  was  desperately  in  need  of  human  companionship 
in  that  instant,  herself,  someone  who  could  speak,  and 
sin,  and  suffer,  and  repent.  As  she  looked  straight  in 
the  face  of  the  man  before  her  she  saw,  not  him  being 
rude  and  quarrelling  pettily  with  his  mother,  but  herself 
racing  around  the  dining  table  pursued  by  her  father 
raving  like  an  insane  man.  Who  was  she  to  judge  or  to 
refuse  help  when  it  was  asked?  She  went  with  him;  and 
Mrs.  Holt,  listening  and  peering  from  the  side  of  the  win- 
dow blind  of  her  room  across  the  hall,  watched  them  cross 
the  road  and  sit  beside  each  other  on  the  bank  of  the 
ravine  in  what  seemed  polite  and  amicable  conversation. 
So  she  heaved  a  deep  sigh  of  relief  and  went  to  wash  the 
dishes  and  plan  breakfast.  "Better  feed  her  up  pretty 
well  'til  she  gits  the  habit  of  staying  here  and  mebby 
the  rest  who  take  boarders  will  be  full,"  she  said  to  her- 


KATE'S  PRIVATE  PUPIL  107 

self.     "Time  enough  to  go  at  skimpin'  when  she's  settled, 
and  busy,  an'  I  get  the  whip  hand." 

But  in  planning  to  get  the  "whip  hand"  Mrs.  Holt  reck- 
oned without  Kate.  She  had  been  under  the  whip  hand 
all  her  life.  Her  dash  for  freedom  had  not  been  accom- 
plished without  both  mental  and  physical  hurt.  She  was 
doing  nothing  but  going  over  her  past  life  minutely,  and 
as  she  realized  more  fully  with  each  review  how  barren 
and  unlovely  it  had  been,  all  the  strength  and  fresh  young 
pride  in  her  arose  in  imperative  demand  for  something 
better  in  the  future.  She  listened  with  interest  to  what 
George  Holt  said  to  her.  All  her  life  she  had  been 
driven  by  a  man  of  inflexible  will,  his  very  soul  inoculated 
with  greed  for  possessions  which  would  give  him  power;  his 
body  endowed  with  unfailing  strength  to  meet  the  de- 
mands he  made  on  it,  and  his  heart  wholly  lacking  in  sen- 
timent; but  she  did  not  propose  to  start  her  new  life  by 
speaking  of  her  family  to  strangers.  George  Holt's  ex- 
periences had  been  those  of  a  son  spoiled  by  a  weak  woman, 
one  day  petted,  the  next  bribed,  the  next  nagged,  again 
left  to  his  own  devices  for  days,  with  strong  inherited 
tendencies  to  be  fought,  tendencies  to  what  he  did  not 
say.  Looking  at  his  heavy  jaw  and  swarthy  face,  Kate 
supplied  "temper"  and  "not  much  inclination  to  work." 
He  had  asked  her  to  teach  him,  she  would  begin  by  set- 
ting him  an  example  in  the  dignity  of  self-control;  then  she 
would  make  him  work.  How  she  would  make  that  big, 
strong  man  work!  As  she  sat  there  on  the  bank  of  the 
<ravine,  with  a  background  of  delicately  leafed  bushes  and 


108  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

the  light  of  the  setting  sun  on  her  face  and  her  hair,  George 
Holt  studied  her  closely,  mentally  and  physically,  and 
would  have  given  all  he  possessed  if  he  had  not  been  so 
hasty.  He  saw  that  she  had  a  good  brain  and  courage  to 
follow  her  convictions,  while  on  closer  study  he  decided 
that  she  was  moulded  on  the  finest  physical  lines  of  any 
woman  he  ever  had  seen,  also  his  study  of  medicine  taught 
him  to  recognize  glowing  health,  and  to  set  a  right  esti- 
mate on  it.  Truly  he  was  sorry,  to  the  bottom  of  his 
soul,  but  he  did  not  believe  in  being  too  humble.  He  said 
as  much  in  apology  as  he  felt  forced,  and  then  set  himself 
the  task  of  calling  out  and  parading  the  level  best  he  could 
think  up  concerning  himself,  or  life  in  general.  He  had 
tried  farming,  teaching,  merchandise,  and  law  before  he 
had  decided  his  vocation  was  medicine. 

On  account  of  Robert  Gray,  Kate  was  much  interested 
in  this,  but  when  she  asked  what  college  he  was  attending, 
he  said  he  was  going  to  a  school  in  Chicago  that  was  pre- 
paring to  revolutionize  the  world  of  medicine.  Then  he 
started  on  a  hobby  that  he  had  ridden  for  months,  paying 
for  the  privilege,  so  Kate  learned  with  surprise  and  no  small 
dismay  that  in  a  few  months  a  man  could  take  a  course 
in  medicine  that  would  enable  him  "to  cure  any  ill  to 
which  the  human  flesh  is  heir,"  as  he  expressed  it,  with- 
out knowing  anything  of  surgery,  or  drugs,  or  using 
either.  Kate  was  amazed  and  said  so  at  once.  She 
disconcertingly  inquired  what  he  would  do  with  patients 
who  had  sustained  fractured  skulls,  developed  cancers, 
or  been  exposed  to  smallpox.     But  the  man  before  her 


KATE'S  PRIVATE  PUPIL  109 

proposed  to  deal  with  none  of  those  disagreeable  things, 
or  their  like.  He  was  going  to  make  fame  and  fortune  in 
the  world  by  treating  mental  and  muscular  troubles.  He 
was  going  to  be  a  Zonoletic  Doctor*  He  turned  teacher  and 
spelled  it  for  her,  because  she  never  had  heard  the  word. 
Kate  looked  at  George  Holt  long  and  with  intense  interest, 
while  her  mind  was  busy  with  new  thoughts.  On  her 
pillow  that  night  she  decided  that  if  she  were  a  man, 
driven  by  a  desire  to  heal  the  suffering  of  the  world, 
she  would  be  the  man  who  took  the  long  exhaustive  course 
of  training  that  enabled  him  to  deal  with  accidents,  con- 
tagions, and  germ  developments. 

He  looked  at  her  with  keen  appreciation  of  her  physical 
freshness  and  mental  strength,  and  manoeuvred  patiently 
toward  the  point  where  he  would  date  ask  blankly  how 
many  there  were  in  her  family,  and  on  exactly  how  many 
acres  her  father  paid  tax.  He  decide^  it  would  not  do 
for  at  least  a  week  yet;  possibly  he  coutd  raise  the  subject 
casually  with  someone  down  town  who  would  know,  so 
that  he  need  never  ask  her  at  all.  Whatever  the  answer 
might  be,  it  was  definitely  settled  in  his  own  mind  that 
Kate  was  the  best  chance  he  had  ever  had,  or  probably 
ever  would  have.  He  mapped  out  his  campaign.  This 
week,  before  he  must  go,  he  would  be  her  pupil  and  her 
slave.  The  holiday  week  he  would  be  her  lover.  In  the 
spring  he  would  propose,  and  in  the  fall  he  would  marry 
her,  and  live  on  the  income  from  her  land  ever  afterward. 
It  was  a  glowing  prospect;  so  glowing  that  he  seriously 
considered  stopping  school  at  once  so  that  he  could  be  at 


no  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

the  courting  part  of  his  campaign  three  times  a  day  and 
every  evening.  He  was  afraid  to  leave  for  fear  people  of  the 
village  would  tell  the  truth  about  him.  He  again  studied 
Kate  carefully  and  decided  that  during  the  week  that  was 
coming,  by  deft  and  energetic  work  he  could  so  win  her 
approval  that  he  could  make  her  think  that  she  knew  him 
better  than  outsiders  did.     So  the  siege  began. 

Kate  had  decided  to  try  making  him  work,  to  see  if 
he  would,  or  was  accustomed  to  it.  He  was  sufficiently 
accustomed  to  it  that  he  could  do  whatever  she  suggested 
with  facility  that  indicated  practice,  and  there  was  no 
question  of  his  willingness.  He  urged  her  to  make  sugges- 
tions as  to  what  else  he  could  do,  after  he  had  made  all  the 
needed  repairs  about  the  house  and  premises.  Kate  was 
enjoying  herself  immensely,  before  the  week  was  over. 
She  had  another  row  of  wood  corded  to  the  shed  roof,  in 
case  the  winter  should  be  severe.  She  had  the  stove  she 
thought  would  warm  her  room  polished  and  set  up  while 
he  was  there  to  do  it.  She  had  the  back  porch  mended  and 
the  loose  board  in  the  front  walk  replaced.  She  borrowed 
buckets  and  cloths  and  impressed  George  Holt  for  the 
cleaning  of  the  school  building  which  she  superintended. 
Before  the  week  was  over  she  had  every  child  of  school 
age  who  came  to  the  building  to  see  what  was  going  on, 
scouring  out  desks,  blacking  stoves,  raking  the  yard,  even 
cleaning  the  street  before  the  building. 

Across  the  street  from  his  home  George  sawed  the 
dead  wood  from  the  trees  and  then,  with  three  days 
to   spare,    Kate   turned   her   attention    to   the   ravine. 


KATE'S  PRIVATE  PUPIL  in 

r 

She  thought  that  probably  she  could  teach  better  there 
in  the  spring  than  in  the  school  building.  She  and 
George  talked  it  over.  He  raised  all  the  objections  he 
could  think  of  that  the  townspeople  would,  while  entirely 
agreeing  with  her  himself,  but  it  was  of  no  use.  She  over- 
ruled the  proxy  objections  he  so  kindly  offered  her,  so 
he  was  obliged  to  drag  his  tired  body  up  the  trees  on  both 
banks  for  several  hundred  yards  and  drop  the  dead  wood. 
Kate  marshalled  a  corps  of  boys  who  would  be  her 
older  pupils  and  they  dragged  out  the  dry  branches, 
saved  all  that  were  suitable  for  firewood,  and  made 
bonfires  from  the  remainder.  They  raked  the  tin  cans 
and  town  refuse  of  years  from  the  water  and  banks 
and  induced  the  village  delivery  man  to  haul  the  stuff 
to  the  river  bridge  and  dump  it  in  the  deepest  place  in  the 
stream.  They  cleaned  the  creek  bank  to  the  water's 
edge  and  built  rustic  seats  down  the  sides.  They 
even  rolled  boulders  to  the  bed  and  set  them  where 
the  water  would  show  their  markings  and  beat  itself  to 
foam  against  them.  Mrs.  Holt  looked  on  in  breathless 
amazement  and  privately  expressed  to  her  son  her  opinion 
of  him  in  terse  and  vigorous  language.  He  answered 
laconically:  "Has  a  fish  got  much  to  say  about  what 
happens  to  it  after  you  get  it  out  of  the  water?" 

"No!"  snapped  Mrs.  Holt,  "and  neither  have  you,  if 
you  kill  yourself  to  get  it." 

"Do  I  look  killed?"  inquired  her  son. 

"No.  You  look  the  most  like  a  real  man  I  ever  saw 
you,"  she  conceded. 


ii2  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

"And  Kate  Bates  won't  need  glasses  for  forty  years 
yet,"  he  said  as  he  went  back  to  his  work  in  the  ravine. 

Kate  was  in  the  middle  of  the  creek  helping  plant  a  big 
stone.  He  stood  a  second  watching  her  as  she  told  the 
boys  surrounding  her  how  best  to  help  her,  then  he  turned 
away,  a  dull  red  burning  his  cheek.  "I'll  have  her  if  I 
die  for  it,"  he  muttered,  "but  I  hope  to  Heaven  she  doesn't 
think  I  am  going  to  work  like  this  for  her  every  day  of  my 
life." 

As  the  villagers  sauntered  past  and  watched  the  work  of 
the  new  teacher,  many  of  them  thought  of  things  at  home 
they  could  do  that  would  improve  their  premises  greatly, 
and  a  few  went  home  and  began  work  of  like  nature. 
That  made  their  neighbours'  places  look  so  unkempt  that 
they  were  forced  to  trim,  and  rake,  and  mend  in  turn,  so 
by  the  time  school  began,  the  whole  village  was  busy  in  a 
crusade  that  extended  to  streets  and  alleys,  while  the  new 
teacher  was  the  most  popular  person  who  had  ever  been 
there.  Without  having  heard  of  such  a  thing,  Kate  had 
started  Civic  Improvement. 

George  Holt  leaned  against  a  tree  trunk  and  looked 
down  at  her  as  he  rested. 

"Do  you  suppose  there  is  such  a  thing  as  ever  making 
anything  out  of  this?"  he  asked. 

"A  perfectly  lovely  public  park  for  the  village,  yes; 
money,  selling  it  for  anything,  no!  It's  too  narrow  a 
strip,  cut  too  deeply  with  the  water,  the  banks  too  steep. 
Commercially,  I  can't  see  that  it  is  worth  ten  cents." 

"Cheering!     It  is  the  only  thing  on  earth  that  truly 


KATE'S  PRIVATE  PUPIL  113 

and  wholly  belongs  to  me.  The  road  divided  the  land. 
Father  willed  everything  on  the  south  side  to  Mother, 
so  she  would  have  the  house,  and  the  land  on  this  side 
was  mine.  I  sold  off  all  I  could  to  Jasper  Linn  to  add 
to  his  farm,  but  he  would  only  buy  to  within  about  twenty 
rods  of  the  ravine.  The  land  was  too  rocky  and  poor. 
So  about  half  a  mile  of  this  comprises  my  earthly  posses- 
sions." 

"Do  you  keep  up  the  taxes?"  she  asked. 

"No.     I've  never  paid  them,"  he  said  carelessly. 

"Then  don't  be  too  sure  it  is  yours,"  she  said.  "Some^ 
one  may  'have  paid  them  and  taken  the  land.  You  had 
better  look  it  up." 

"What  for?"  he  demanded. 

"It  is  beautiful.  It  is  the  shadiest,  coolest  place  in 
town.  Having  it  here  doubles  the  value  of  your  mother's 
house  across  the  street.  In  some  way,  some  day,  it  might 
turn  out  to  be  worth  something." 

"I  can't  see  how,"  he  said. 

"Some  of  these  trees  may  become  valuable  when  lumber 
gets  scarcer,  as  it  will  when  the  land  grows  older.  Maybe 
a  stone  quarry  could  be  opened  up,  if  the  stone  runs  back 
as  far  as  you  say.  A  lot  of  things  might  make  it  valuable. 
If  I  were  you  I  would  go  to  Hartley,  quietly,  to-morrow, 
and  examine  the  records,  and  if  there  are  back  taxes  I'd 
pay  them." 

"I'll  look  it  up,  anyway,"  he  agreed.  "You  surely 
have  made  another  place  of  it.  It  will  be  wonderful  by 
spring." 


ii4  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

"I  can  think  of  many  uses  for  it,"  said  Kate.  "Here 
comes  your  mother  to  see  how  we  are  getting  along." 

Instead,  she  came  to  hand  Kate  a  letter  she  had  brought 
from  the  post  office  while  doing  her  marketing.  Kate 
took  the  letter,  saw  at  a  glance  that  it  was  from  Nancy 
Ellen,  and  excusing  herself,  she  went  to  one  of  the  seats 
they  had  made,  and  turning  her  face  so  that  it  could  not 
be  seen,  she  read: 

Dear  Kate:  You  can  prepare  yourself  for  the  surprise  of  your  life. 
Two  Bates  men  have  done  something  for  one  of  their  women.  I  hope 
you  will  survive  the  shock;  it  almost  finished  me  and  Mother  is  still 
speechless.  I  won't  try  to  prepare  you,  I  could  not.  Here  it  is. 
Father  raged  for  three  days  and  we  got  out  of  his  way  like  scared 
rabbits.  I  saw  I  had  to  teach,  so  I  said  I  would,  but  I  had  not  told 
Robert,  because  I  couldn't  bear  to.  Then  up  came  Hiram  and  offered 
to  take  the  school  for  me.  Father  said  no,  I  couldn't  get  out  of  it  that 
way.  Hiram  said  I  had  not  seen  him  or  sent  him  any  word  and  I 
could  prove  by  mother  I  hadn't  been  away  from  the  house,  so  Father 
believed  him.  He  said  he  wanted  the  money  to  add  two  acres  to  his 
land  from  the  Simms  place;  that  would  let  his  stock  down  to  water  on 
the  far  side  of  his  land  where  it  would  be  a  great  convenience  and  give 
him  a  better  arrangement  of  fields  so  he  could  make  more  money. 
You  know  Father.  He  shut  up  like  a  clam  and  only  said:  "Do  what 
you  please.  If  a  Bates  teaches  the  school  it  makes  my  word  good." 
So  Hiram  is  going  to  teach  for  me.  He  is  brushing  up  a  little  nights 
and  I  am  helping  him  on  "theory,"  and  I  am  wild  with  joy,  and  so  is 
Robert.  I  shall  have  plenty  of  time  to  do  all  my  sewing  and  we  shall 
be  married  at,  or  after,  Christmas.  Robert  says  to  tell  you  to  come  to 
see  him  if  you  ever  come  to  Hartley.  He  is  there  in  his  office  now  and 
it  is  lonesome,  but  I  am  busy  and  the  time  will  soon  pass.  I  might 
as  well  tell  you  that  Father  said  right  after  you  left  that  you  should 
never  enter  his  house  again,  and  Mother  and  I  should  not  speak  your 
name  before  him.  I  do  hope  he  gets  over  it  before  the  wedding.  Write 
me  how  you  like  your  school,  and  where  you  board.     Maybe  Robert 


/ 


KATE'S  PRIVATE  PUPIL  115 

and  I  can  slip  off  and  drive  over  to  see  you  some  day.  But  that 
would  make  Father  so  mad  if  he  found  it  out  that  he  would  not  give  me 
the  money  he  promised;  so  we  had  better  not,  but  you  come  to  see  us  as 
soon  as  we  get  in  our  home.     Love  from  both, 

Nancy  Ellen. 

Kate  read  the  joyful  letter  slowly.  It  contained  all 
she  hoped  for.  She  had  not  postponed  Nancy  Ellen's 
wedding.  That  was  all  she  asked.  She  had  known  she 
would  not  be  forgiven  so  soon,  there  was  slight  hope  she 
ever  would.  Her  only  chance,  thought  Kate,  lay  in  mar- 
rying a  farmer  having  about  a  thousand  acres  of  land. 
If  she  could  do  that,  her  father  would  let  her  come  home 
again  sometime.  She  read  the  letter  slowly  over,  then 
tearing  it  in  long  strips  she  cross  tore  them  and  sifted  the 
handful  of  small  bits  on  the  water,  where  they  started  a 
dashing  journey  toward  the  river.  Mrs.  Holt,  narrowly 
watching  her,  turned  with  snaky  gleaming  eyes  to  her 
son  and  whispered:  "A-ha!  Miss  Smart  Alec  has  a 
secret!" 


CHAPTER  VII 

Helping  Nancy  Ellen  and  Robert  to  Establish 

a  Home 

THE  remainder  of  the  time  before  leaving,  George 
Holt  spent  in  the  very  strongest  mental  and 
physical  effort  to  show  Kate  how  much  of  a 
man  he  was.  He  succeeded  in  what  he  hoped  he  might  do. 
He  so  influenced  her  in  his  favour  that  during  the  coming 
year  whenever  any  one  showed  signs  of  criticising  him, 
Kate  stopped  them  by  commendation,  based  upon  what 
she  supposed  to  be  knowledge  of  him. 

With  the  schoolhouse  and  grounds  cleaned  as  they 
never  had  been  before,  the  parents  and  pupils  naturally 
expected  new  methods.  During  the  week  spent  in  be-' 
coming  acquainted  with  the  teacher,  the  parents  heartily 
endorsed  her,  while  the  pupils  liked  her  cordially.  It 
could  be  seen  at  a  glance  that  she  could  pick  up  the 
brawniest  of  them,  and  drop  him  from  the  window,  if  she 
chose.  The  days  at  the  stream  had  taught  them  her 
physical  strength,  while  at  the  same  time  they  had 
glimpses  of  her  mental  processes.  The  boys  learned  many 
things:  that  they  must  not  lie  or  take  anything  which 
did  not  belong  to  them;  that  they  must  be  considerate 
and  manly,  if  they  were  to  be  her  friends;  yet  not  one 

116 


HELPING  TO  ESTABLISH  A  HOME        117 

word  had  been  said  on  any  of  these  subjects.  As  she 
spoke  to  them,  they  answered  her,  and  soon  spoke  in  the 
same  way  to  each  other.  She  was  very  careful  about 
each  statement  she  made,  often  adducing  convenient 
proof,  so  they  saw  that  she  was  always  right,  and  never 
exaggerated.  The  first  hour  of  this  made  the  boys  think, 
the  second  they  imitated,  the  third  they  instantly  obeyed. 
She  started  in  to  interest  and  educate  those  children;  she 
sent  them  home  to  investigate  more  subjects  the  first  day 
than  they  had  ever  carried  home  in  any  previous  month. 
Boys  suddenly  began  asking  their  fathers  about  business; 
girls  questioned  their  mothers  about  marketing  and  house- 
keeping. 

The  week  of  Christmas  vacation  was  going  to  be  the 
hardest;  everyone  expected  the  teacher  to  go  home  for  the 
Holidays.  Many  of  them  knew  that  her  sister  was 
marrying  the  new  doctor  of  Hartley.  When  Kate  was 
wondering  how  she  could  possibly  conceal  the  rupture 
with  her  family,  Robert  Gray  drove  into  Walden  and 
found  her  at  the  schoolhouse.  She  was  so  delighted  to  see 
him  that  she  made  no  attempt  to  conceal  her  joy.  He 
had  driven  her  way  for  exercise  and  to  pay  her  a  call. 
When  he  realized  from  her  greeting  how  she  had  felt  the 
separation  from  her  family,  he  had  an  idea  that  he  at  once 
propounded:  "Kate,  I  have  come  to  ask  a  favour  of 
you,"  he  said. 

"Granted!"  laughed  Kate.     "Whatever  can  it  be?" 
"Just  this!     I  want  you  to  pack  a  few  clothes,  drive  to 
Hartley  with  me  and  do  what  you  can  to  straighten  out  the 


n8  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

house,  so  there  won't  be  such  confusion  when  Nancy 
Ellen  gets  there." 

Kate  stared  at  him  in  a  happy  daze.  "Oh,  you  blessed 
Robert  Gray!  What  a  Heavenly  idea!"  she  cried.  "Of 
course  it  wouldn't  be  possible  for  me  to  fix  Nancy  Ellen's 
house  the  way  she  would,  but  I  could  put  everything 
where  it  belonged,  I  could  arrange  well  enough,  and  I 
could  have  a  supper  ready,  so  that  you  could  come 
straight  home." 

"Then  you  will  do  it?"  he  asked. 

"Do  it?"  cried  Kate.  "Do  it!  Why,  I  would  be 
willing  to  pay  you  for  the  chance  to  do  it.  How  do  you 
think  I'm  to  explain  my  not  going  home  for  the  Holidays, 
and  to  my  sister's  wedding,  and  retain  my  self-respect  be- 
fore my  patrons?" 

"I  didn't  think  of  it  in  that  way,"  he  said. 

"I'm  crazy,"  said  Kate.  "Take  me  quickly!  How 
far  along  are  you?" 

"House  cleaned,  blinds  up,  stoves  all  in,  coal  and  wood, 
cellar  stocked,  carpets  down,  and  furniture  all  there,  but 
not  unwrapped  or  in  place.  Dishes  delivered  but  not 
washed;  cooking  utensils  there,  but  not  cleaned." 

"Enough  said,"  laughed  Kate.  "You  go  marry 
Nancy  Ellen.  I  shall  have  the  house  warm,  arranged  so 
you  can  live  in  it,  and  the  first  meal  ready  when  you  come. 
Does  Nancy  Ellen  know  you  are  here?" 

"No.  I  have  enough  country  practice  that  I  need  a 
horse;  I'm  trying  this  one.  I  think  of  you  often  so  I 
thought  I'd  drive  out.     How  are  you  making  it,  Kate?" 


HELPING  TO  ESTABLISH  A  HOME       119 

"Just  fine,  so  far  as  the  school  goes.  I  don't  particu- 
larly like  the  woman  I  board  with.  Her  son  is  some 
better,  yes,  he  is  much  better.  And  Robert,  what  is  a 
Zonoletic  Doctor?" 

"A  poor  fool,  too  lazy  to  be  a  real  doctor,  with  no  con- 
science about  taking  people's  money  for  nothing,"  he  said. 

"As  bad  as  that?"  asked  Kate. 

"Worse!     Why?"  he  said. 

"Oh,  I  only  wondered,"  said  Kate.  "Now  I  am  ready, 
here;  but  I  must  run  to  the  house  where  I  board  a  min- 
ute. It's  only  a  step.  You  watch  where  I  go,  and  drive 
down." 

She  entered  the  house  quietly  and  going  back  to  the 
kitchen  she  said:  "The  folks  have  come  for  me,  Mrs. 
Holt.  I  don't  know  exactly  when  I  shall  be  back, 
but  in  plenty  of  time  to  start  school.  If  George  goes 
before  I  return,  tell  him  'Merry  Christmas,'  for  me." 

"He'll  be  most  disappointed  to  death,"  said  Mrs.  Holt. 

"I  don't  see  why  he  should,"  said  Kate,  calmly.  "You 
never  have  had  the  teacher  here  at  Christmas." 

"We  never  had  a  teacher  that  I  wanted  before,"  said 
Mrs.  Holt;  while  Kate  turned  to  avoid  seeing  the  woman's 
face  as  she  perjured  herself.  "You're  like  one  of  the 
family,  George  is  crazy  about  you.  He  wrote  me  to  be 
sure  to  keep  you.  Couldn't  you  possibly  stay  over 
Sunday?" 

"No,  I  couldn't,"  said  Kate. 

"Who  came  after  you?"  asked  Mrs.  Holt. 

"Dr.  Gray,"  answered  Kate. 


120  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

"That  new  doctor  at  Hartley?  Why,  be  you  an'  him 
friends?" 

Mrs.  Holt  had  followed  down  the  hall,  eagerly  waiting 
in  the  doorway.  Kate  glanced  at  her  and  felt  sudden 
pity.  The  woman  was  warped.  Everything  in  her  life  had 
gone  wrong.  Possibly  she  could  not  avoid  being  the 
disagreeable  person  she  was.     Kate  smiled  at  her. 

"Worse  than  that,"  she  said.  "We  be  relations  in  a  few 
days.  He's  going  to  marry  my  sister  Nancy  Ellen  next 
Tuesday." 

Kate  understood  the  indistinct  gurgle  she  heard  to  be 
approving,  so  she  added:  "He  came  after  me  early  so  I 
could  go  to  Hartley  and  help  get  their  new  house  ready  for 
them  to  live  in  after  the  ceremony." 

"Did  your  father  give  them  the  house?"  asked  Mrs. 
Holt  eagerly. 

"No.     Dr.  Gray  bought  his  home,"  said  Kate. 

"How  nice!    What  did  your  father  give  them?" 

Kate's  patience  was  exhausted.  "You'll  have  to  wait 
until  I  come  back,"  she  said.  "I  haven't  the  gift  of  telling 
about  things  before  they  have  happened." 

Then  she  picked  up  her  telescope  and  saying  "good- 
bye," left  the  house. 

As  they  drove  toward  Hartley:  "I'm  anxious  to  see 
your  house,"  said  Kate.  "Did  you  find  one  in  a  good 
neighbourhood  ? " 

"The  very  best,  I  think,"  said  the  doctor.  "That  is 
all  one  could  offer  Nancy  Ellen." 

"I'm  so  glad  for  her!    And  I'm  glad  for  you,  too! 


HELPING  TO  ESTABLISH  A  HOME       121 

She'll  make  you  a  beautiful  wife  in  every  way.  She's 
a  good  cook,  she  knows  how  to  economize,  and  she's  too 
pretty  for  words,  if  she  is  my  sister." 

"I  heartily  agree  with  you,"  said  the  doctor.  "But 
I  notice  you  put  the  cook  first  and  the  beauty  last." 

"You  will,  too,  before  you  get  through  with  it,"  an- 
swered Kate. 

"Here  we  are!"  said  he,  soon  after  they  entered  Hartley. 
"I'll  drive  around  the  block,  so  you  can  form  an  idea  of 
the  location."  Kate  admired  every  house  in  the  block, 
the  streets  and  trees,  the  one  house  Robert  Gray  had 
selected  in  every  particular.  They  went  inside  and  built 
fires,  had  lunch  together  at  the  hotel,  and  then  Kate  rolled 
up  her  sleeves  and  with  a  few  yards  of  cheese-cloth  for  a 
duster,  began  unwrapping  furniture  and  standing  it  in  the 
room  where  it  belonged.  Robert  moved  the  heavy  pieces, 
then  he  left  to  call  on  a  patient  and  spend  the  evening  with 
Nancy  Ellen. 

So  Kate  spent  several  happy  days  setting  Nancy  Ellen's 
new  home  in  order.  From  basement  to  garret  she  had 
it  immaculate  and  shining.  No  Bates  girl,  not  even 
Agatha,  ever  had  gone  into  a  home  having  so  many 
comforts  and  conveniences. 

Kate  felt  lonely  the  day  she  knew  her  home  was 
overcrowded  with  all  their  big  family;  she  sat  very  still 
thinking  of  them  during  the  hour  of  the  ceremony; 
she  began  preparing  supper  almost  immediately,  be- 
cause Robert  had  promised  her  that  he  would  not  eat 
any  more  of  the  wedding  feast  than  he  could  help,  and 


122  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

he  would  bring  Nancy  Ellen  as  soon  afterward  as  possible. 
Kate  saw  them  drive  to  the  gate  and  come  up  the  walk 
together.  As  they  entered  the  door  Nancy  Ellen  was 
saying:  "Why,  how  does  the  house  come  to  be  all 
lighted  up?  Seems  to  me  I  smell  things  to  eat.  Well, 
if  the  table  isn't  all  set!" 

There  was  a  pause  and  then  Nancy  Ellen's  clear  voice 
called:  "Kate!  Kate!  Where  are  you?  Nobody  else 
would  be  this  nice  to  me.  You  dear  girl,  where  are 
you?" 

"I'll  get  to  stay  until  I  go  back  to  school!"  was  Kate's 
mental  comment  as  she  ran  to  clasp  Nancy  Ellen  in  her 
arms,  while  they  laughed  and  very  nearly  cried  together, 
so  that  the  doctor  felt  it  incumbent  upon  him  to  hug 
both  of  them.  Shortly  afterward  he  said:  "There  is  a 
fine  show  in  town  to-night,  and  I  have  three  tickets. 
Let's  all  go." 

"Let's  eat  before  we  go,"  said  Nancy  Ellen,  "I  haven't 
had  time  to  eat  a  square  meal  for  a  week  and  things  smell 
deliciously." 

They  finished  their  supper  leisurely,  stacked  the  dishes 
and  went  to  the  theatre,  where  they  saw  a  fair  perform- 
ance of  a  good  play,  which  was  to  both  of  the  girls  a 
great  treat.  When  they  returned  home,  Kate  left  Nancy 
Ellen  and  Robert  to  gloat  over  the  carpets  they  had 
selected,  as  they  appeared  on  their  floors,  to  arrange  the 
furniture  and  re-examine  their  wedding  gifts;  while  she 
slipped  into  the  kitchen  and  began  washing  the  dishes  and 
planning  what  she  would  have  for  breakfast.     But  soon 


HELPING  TO  ESTABLISH  A  HOME       123 

they  came  to  her  and  Nancy  Ellen  insisted  on  wiping  the 
dishes,  while  Robert  carried  them  to  the  cupboard. 
Afterward,  they  sat  before  their  fireplace  and  talked  over 
events  since  the  sisters'  separation. 

Nancy  Ellen  told  about  getting  ready  for  her  wed- 
ding, life  at  home,  the  school,  the  news  of  the  family; 
then  Kate  drew  a  perfect  picture  of  the  Walden  school, 
her  boarding  place,  Mrs.  Holt,  the  ravine,  the  town  and 
the  people,  with  the  exception  of  George  Holt — him  she 
never  mentioned. 

After  Robert  had  gone  to  his  office  the  following  morn- 
ing, Kate  said  to  Nancy  Ellen:  "Now  I  wish  you  would 
be  perfectly  frank  with  me " 

"As  if  I  could  be  anything  else!"  laughed  the  bride. 

"All  right,  then,"  said  Kate.  "What  I  want  is  this: 
that  these  days  shall  always  come  back  to  you  in  memory 
as  nearly  perfect  as  possible.  Now  if  my  being  here  helps 
ever  so  little,  I  like  to  stay,  and  I'll  be  glad  to  cook  and 
wash  dishes,  while  you  fix  your  house  to  suit  you.  But 
if  you'd  rather  be  alone,  I'll  go  back  to  Walden  and  be 
satisfied  and  happy  with  the  fine  treat  this  has  been.  I 
can  look  everyone  in  the  face  now,  talk  about  the  wedding, 
and  feel  all  right." 

Nancy  Ellen  said  slowly:  "I  shan't  spare  you  until 
barely  time  to  reach  your  school  Monday  morning.  And 
I'm  not  keeping  you  to  work  for  me,  either!  We'll  do 
everything  together,  and  then  we'll  plan  how  to  make  the 
house  pretty,  and  go  see  Robert  in  his  office,  and  go  shop- 
ping.    I'll  never  forgive  you  if  you  go." 


124 


A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 


"Why,  Nancy  Ellen !"  said  Kate,  then  fled  to  the 

kitchen  too  happy  to  speak  further. 

None  of  them  ever  forgot  that  week.  It  was  such  a 
happy  time  that  all  of  them  dreaded  its  end;  but  when  it 
came  they  parted  cheerfully,  and  each  went  back  to 
work,  the  better  for  the  happy  reunion.  Kate  did  not 
return  to  Waiden  until  Monday;  then  she  found  Mrs. 
Holt  in  an  evil  temper.  Kate  could  not  understand  it. 
She  had  no  means  of  knowing  that  for  a  week  George 
had  nagged  his  mother  .unceasingly  because  Kate  was 
gone  on  his  return,  and  would  not  be  back  until  after 
time  for  him  to  go  again.  The  only  way  for  him  to  see 
her  during  the  week  he  had  planned  to  come  out  openly 
as  her  lover,  was  to  try  to  find  her  at  her  home,  or  at  her 
sister's.  He  did  not  feel  that  it  would  help  him  to  go 
where  he  never  had  been  asked.  His  only  recourse  was  to 
miss  a  few  days  of  school  and  do  extra  work  to  make  it 
up;  but  he  detested  nothing  in  life  as  he  detested  work, 
so  the  world's  happy  week  had  been  to  them  one  of  constant 
sparring  and  unhappiness,  for  which  Mrs.  Holt  blamed 
Kate.  Her  son  had  returned  expecting  to  court  Kate 
Bates  strenuously;  his  disappointment  was  not  lightened 
by  his  mother's  constant  nagging.  Monday  forenoon  she 
went  to  market,  and  came  in  gasping. 

"Land  sakes!"  she  cried  as  she  panted  down  the  hall. 
"I've  got  a  good  one  on  that  impident  huzzy  now!" 

"You  better  keep  your  mouth  shut,  and  not  gossip 
about  her,"  he  said.     "Everybody  likes  her!" 

"No,  they  don't,  for  I  hate  her  worse  'n  snakes!     If  it 


HELPING  TO  ESTABLISH  A  HOME       125 

wa'n't  for  her  money  I'd  fix  her  so's  "at  she'd  never  marry 
you  in  kingdom  come." 

George  Holt  clenched  his  big  fist. 

"Just  you  try  it ! "  he  threatened.     "Just  you  try  that ! " 

"You'll  live  to  see  the  day  you'd  thank  me  if  I  did. 
She  ain't  been  home.  Mind  you,  she  ain't  been  home! 
She  never  seen  her  sister  married  at  all!  Tilly  Nepple 
has  a  sister,  living  near  the  Bates,  who  worked  in  the 
kitchen.  She's  visitin'  at  Tilly's  now.  Miss  High-and- 
Mighty  never  seen  her  sister  married  at  all!  An'  it 
looked  mighty  queer,  her  comin'  here  a  week  ahead  of 
time,  in  the  fall.  Looks  like  she'd  done  somepin  she 
don't  dare  go  home.  No  wonder  she  tears  every  scrap 
of  mail  she  gets  to  ribbons  an'  burns  it.  I  told  you  she 
had  a  secret!     If  ever  you'd  listen  to  me." 

"Why,  you're  crazy!"  he  exclaimed.  "I  did  listen  to 
you.  What  you  told  me  was  that  I  should  go  after  her 
with  all  my  might.  So  I  did  it.  Now  you  come  with 
this.  Shut  it  up !  Don't  let  her  get  wind  of  it  for  the 
world!" 

"And  Tilly  Nepple's  sister  says  old  Land  King  Bates 
never  give  his  daughter  a  cent,  an'  he  never  gives  none  of 
his  girls  a  cent.  It's  up  to  the  men  they  marry  to  take 
keer  of  them.  The  old  skin-flint!  What  you  want  to  do 
is  to  go  long  to  your  schoolin',  if  you  reely  are  going  to 
make  somepin  of  yourself  at  last,  an'  let  that  big  strap  of  a 
girl  be,  do " 

"Now,  stop!"  shouted  George  Holt.  "Scenting  an- 
other scandal,  are  you?     Don't  you  dare  mar  Kate  Bates' 


126  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

standing,  or  her  reputation  in  this  town,  or  we'll  have  a 
time  like  we  never  had  before.  If  old  Bates  doesn't  give 
his  girls  anything  when  they  marry,  they'll  get  more 
when  he  dies.  And  so  far  as  money  is  concerned,  this 
has  gone  past  money  with  me.  I'm  going  to  marry  Kate 
Bates,  as  soon  as  ever  I  can,  and  I've  got  to  the  place 
where  I'd  marry  her  if  she  hadn't  a  cent.  If  I  can't 
take  care  of  her,  she  can  take  care  of  me.  I  am  crazy 
about  her,  an'  I'm  going  to  have  her;  so  you  keep  still, 
an'  do  all  you  can  to  help  me,  or  you'll  regret  it." 

"It's  you  that  will  regret  it!"  she  said. 

"Stop  your  nagging,  I  tell  you,  or  I'll  come  at  you  in  a 
way  you  won't  like,"  he  cried. 

"You  do  that  every  day  you're  here,"  said  Mrs.  Holt, 
starting  to  the  kitchen  to  begin  dinner. 

Kate  appeared  in  half  an  hour,  fresh  and  rosy,  also 
prepared;  for  one  of  her  little  pupils  had  said:  "Tilly 
Nepple's  sister  says  you  wasn't  at  your  sister's  wedding 
at  all.     Did  you  cry  'cause  you  couldn't  go?" 

Instantly  Kate  comprehended  what  must  be  town 
gossip,  so  she  gave  the  child  a  happy  solution  of  the  ques- 
tion bothering  her,  and  went  to  her  boarding  house  fore- 
warned. She  greeted  both  Mrs.  Holt  and  her  son 
cordially,  then  sat  down  to  dinner,  in  the  best  of  spirits. 
The  instant  her  chance  came,  Mrs.  Holt  said:  "Now 
tell  us  all  about  the  lovely  wedding." 

"But  I  wasn't  managing  the  wedding,"  said  Kate 
cheerfully.  "I  was  on  the  infare  job.  Mother  and 
Nancy  Ellen  put  the  wedding  through.     You  know  our 


HELPING  TO  ESTABLISH  A  HOME       127 

house  isn't  very  large,  and  close  relatives  fill  it  to  bursting. 
I've  seen  the  same  kind  of  wedding  about  every  eighteen 
months  all  my  life.  I  had  a  new  job  this  time,  and  one 
I  liked  better." 

She  turned  to  George:  "Of  course  your  mother  told 
you  that  Dr.  Gray  came  after  me.  He  came  to  ask  me  as 
an  especial  favour  to  go  to  his  new  house  in  Hartley,  and 
do  what  I  could  to  arrange  it,  and  to  have  a  supper 
ready.  I  was  glad.  I'd  seen  six  weddings  that  I 
can  remember,  all  exactly  alike — there's  nothing  to 
them;  but  brushing  those  new  carpets,  unwrapping  nice 
furniture  and  placing  it,  washing  pretty  new  dishes,  unty- 
ing the  loveliest  gifts  and  arranging  them — that  was 
something  new  in  a  Bates  wedding.  Oh,  but  I  had  a 
splendid  time!" 

George  Holt  looked  at  his  mother  in  too  great  disgust 
to  conceal  his  feelings. 

"Another  gilt-edged  scandal  gone  sky  high,"  he  said. 
Then  he  turned  to  Kate.  "One  of  the  women  who 
worked  in  your  mother's  kitchen  is  visiting  here,  and  she 
started  a  great  hullabaloo  because  you  were  not  at  the 
wedding.  You  probably  haven't  got  a  leg  left  to  stand  on. 
I  suspect  the  old  cats  of  Walden  have  chewed  them  both 
ofF,  and  all  the  while  you  were  happy,  and  doing  the  thing 
any  girl  would  much  rather  have  done.  Lord,  I  hate 
this  eternal  picking!     How  did  you  come  back,  Kate?" 

"Dr.  Gray  brought  me." 

"I  should  think  it  would  have  made  talk,  your  staying 
there  with  him,"  commented  Mrs.  Holt. 


128  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

"Fortunately,  the  people  in  Hartley  seem  reasonably 
busy  attending  their  own  affairs,"  said  Kate.  "Doctor 
Gray  had  been  boarding  at  the  hotel  all  fall,  so  he  just 
went  on  living  there  until  after  the  wedding." 

George  glared  at  his  mother,  but  she  avoided  his  eyes, 
and  laughing  in  a  silly,  half-confused  manner  she  said: 
"How  much  money  did  your  father  give  the  bride?" 

"I  can't  tell  you,  in  even  dollars  and  cents,"  said  Kate. 
"Nancy  Ellen  didn't  say." 

Kate  saw  the  movement  of  George's  foot  under  the 
table,  and  knew  that  he  was  trying  to  make  his  mother 
stop  asking  questions;  so  she  began  talking  to  him  about 
his  work.  As  soon  as  the  meal  was  finished  he  walked  with 
her  to  school,  visiting  until  the  session  began.  He  re- 
mained three  days,  and  before  he  left  he  told  Kate  he  loved 
her,  and  asked  her  to  be  his  wife.  She  looked  at  him  in 
surprise  and  said :  "Why,  I  never  thought  of  such  a  thing! 
How  long  have  you  been  thinking  about  it?" 

"Since  the  first  instant  I  saw  you!"  he  declared  with 
fervour. 

"Hum!  Matter  of  months,"  said  Kate.  "Well,  when 
I  have  had  that  much  time,  I  will  tell  you  what  I  think 
about  it." 


CHAPTER  VIII 
The  History  of  a  Leghorn  Hat 


ATE  finished  her  school  in  the  spring,  then  went 
for  a  visit  with  Nancy  Ellen  and  Robert,  before 


K 

M  ^^  George  Holt  returned.  She  was  thankful  to  leave 
Walden  without  having  seen  him,  for  she  had  decided, 
without  giving  the  matter  much  thought,  that  he  was  not 
the  man  she  wanted  to  marry.  In  her  heart  she  regretted 
having  previously  contracted  for  the  Walden  school  an- 
other winter  because  she  felt  certain  that  with  the  influ- 
ence of  Dr.  Gray,  she  could  now  secure  a  position  in  Hart- 
ley that  would  enable  her  either  to  live  with,  or  to  be  near, 
her  sister.  With  this  thought  in  mind,  she  tried  to  make 
the  acquaintance  of  teachers  in  the  school  who  lived  in 
Hartley  and  she  soon  became  rather  intimate  with  one  of 
them. 

It  was  while  visiting  with  this  teacher  that  Kate  spoke 
of  attending  Normal  again  in  an  effort  to  prepare  herself 
still  better  for  the  work  of  the  coming  year.  Her  new 
friend  advised  against  it.  She  said  the  course  would  be 
only  the  same  thing  over  again,  with  so  little  change  or 
advancement,  that  the  trip  was  not  worth  the  time  and 
money  it  would  cost.  She  proposed  that  Kate  go  to  Lake 
Chautauqua  and  take  the  teachers'  course,  where  all  spare 

199 


1 3o  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

time  could  be  put  in  attending  lectures,  and  concerts, 
and  studying  the  recently  devised  methods  of  education. 
Kate  went  from  her  to  Nancy  Ellen  and  Robert,  deter- 
mined at  heart  to  go. 

She  was  pleased  when  they  strongly  advised  her  to, 
and  offered  to  help  her  get  ready.  Aside  from  having 
paid  Agatha,  and  for  her  board,  Kate  had  spent  almost 
nothing  on  herself.  She  figured  the  probable  expenses  of 
the  trip  for  a  month,  what  it  would  cost  her  to  live  until 
school  began  again,  if  she  were  forced  to  go  to  Walden, 
and  then  spent  all  her  remaining  funds  on  the  prettiest 
clothing  she  ever  had  owned.  Each  of  the  sisters  knew 
how  to  buy  carefully;  then  the  added  advantage  of  being 
able  to  cut  and  make  their  own  clothes,  made  money  go 
twice  as  far  as  where  a  dressmaker  had  to  be  employed. 
When  everything  they  had  planned  was  purchased,  neatly 
made,  and  packed  in  a  trunk,  into  which  Nancy  Ellen 
slipped  some  of  her  prettiest  belongings,  Kate  made  a 
trip  to  a  milliner's  shop  to  purchase  her  first  real  hat. 

She  had  decided  on  a  big,  wide-brimmed  Leghorn,  far 
from  cheap.  While  she  was  trying  the  effect  of  flowers 
and  ribbon  on  it,  the  wily  milliner  slipped  up  and  with  the 
hat  on  Kate's  golden  crown,  looped  in  front  a  bow  of 
wide  black  velvet  ribbon  and  drooped  over  the  brim  a 
long,  exquisitely  curling  ostrich  plume.  Kate  had  one 
good  view  of  herself,  before  she  turned  her  back  on  the 
temptation. 

"You  look  lovely  in  that,"  said  the  milliner.  "Don't 
you  like  it?" 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  LEGHORN  HAT     13 1 

"I  certainly  do,"  said  Kate.  "I  look  the  best  in  that 
hat,  with  the  black  velvet  and  the  plume,  I  ever  did, 
but  there's  no  use  to  look  twice,  I  can't  afford  it." 

"Oh,  but  it  is  very  reasonable!  We  haven't  a  finer  hat 
in  the  store,  nor  a  better  plume,"  said  the  milliner. 

She  slowly  waved  it  in  all  its  glory  before  Kate's  beauty- 
hungry  eyes.     Kate  turned  so  she  could  not  see  it. 

"Please  excuse  one  question.  Are  you  teaching  in 
Walden  this  winter?"  asked  the  milliner. 

"Yes,"  said  Kate.  "I  have  signed  the  contract  for 
that  school." 

"Then  charge  the  hat  and  pay  for  it  in  September. 
I'd  rather  wait  for  my  money  than  see  you  fail  to  spend 
the  summer  under  that  plume.  It  really  is  lovely  against 
your  gold  hair." 

"'Get  thee  behind  me,  Satan,'"  quoted  Kate.  "No. 
I  never  had  anything  charged,  and  never  expect  to. 
Please  have  the  black  velvet  put  on  and  let  me  try  it 
with  the  bows  set  and  sewed." 

"All  right,"  said  the  milliner,  "but  I'm  sorry." 

She  was  so  sorry  that  she  carried  the  plume  to  the  work 
room,  and  when  she  again  walked  up  behind  Kate,  who 
sat  waiting  before  the  mirror,  and  carefully  set  the  hat 
on  her  head,  at  exactly  the  right  angle,  the  long  plume 
crept  down  one  side  and  drooped  across  the  girl's  shoulder. 

"I  will  reduce  it  a  dollar  more,"  she  said,  "and  send 
the  bill  to  you  at  Walden  the  last  week  in  September." 

Kate  moved  her  head  from  side  to  side,  lifted  and 
dropped  her  chin.     Then  she  turned  to  the  milliner. 


132  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

"You  should  be  killed!"  she  said. 

The  woman  reached  for  a  hat  box. 

"No,  I  shouldn't!"  she  said.  "Waiting  that  long,  I'll 
not  make  much  on  the  hat,  but  I'll  make  a  good  friend 
who  will  come  again,  and  bring  her  friends.  What  is 
your  name,  please?" 

Kate  took  one  look  at  herself — smooth  pink  cheeks,  gray 
eyes,  gold  hair,  the  sweeping  wide  brim,  the  trailing  plume. 

"Miss  Katherine  Eleanor  Bates,"  she  said,  "Bates 
Corners,  Hartley,  Indiana.     Please  call  my  carriage?" 

The  milliner  laughed  heartily.  "That's  the  spirit  of  '76" 
she  commended.  "I'd  be  willing  to  wager  something 
worth  while  that  this  very  hat  brings  you  the  carriage 
before  fall,  if  }tou  show  yourself  in  it  in  the  right  place. 
It's  a  perfectly  stunning  hat.  Shall  I  send  it,  or  will  you 
wear  it: 

Kate  looked  in  the  mirror  again.  "You  may  put  a 
fresh  blue  band  on  the  sailor  I  was  wearing,  and  send 
that  to  Dr.  Gray's  when  it  is  finished,"  she  said.  "And 
put  in  a  fancy  bow,  for  my  throat,  of  the  same  velvet  as  the 
hat,  please.  I'll  surely  pay  you  the  last  week  in  September. 
And  if  you  can  think  up  an  equally  becoming  hat  for 
winter " 

"You  just  bet  I  can,  young  lady,"  said  the  milliner 
to  herself  as  Kate  walked  down  the  street. 

From  afar,  Kate  saw  Nancy  Ellen  on  the  veranda,  so 
she  walked  slowly  to  let  the  effect  sink  in,  but  it  seemed 
to 'make  no  impression  until  she  looked  up  at  Nancy 
Ellen's  very  feet  and  said:     "Well,  how  do  you  like  it?" 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  LEGHORN  HAT      133 

"Good  gracious!"  cried  Nancy  Ellen.  "I  thought  I 
was  having  a  stylish  caller.  I  didn't  know  you!  Why, 
I  never  saw  you  walk  that  way  before." 

"You  wouldn't  expect  me  to  plod  along  as  if  I  were 
plowing,  with  a  thing  like  this  on  my  head,  would  you?" 

"I  wouldn't  expect  you  to  have  a  thing  like  that  on  your 
head;  but  since  you  have,  I  don't  mind  telling  you  that 
you  are  stunning  in  it,"  said  Nancy  Ellen. 

"Better  and  better!"  laughed  Kate,  sitting  down  on  the 
step.     "The  milliner  said  it  was  a  stunning  hat." 

"The  goose!"  said  Nancy  Ellen.  "You  become  that 
hat,  Kate,  quite  as  much  as  the  hat  becomes  you." 

The  following  day,  dressed  in  a  linen  suit  of  natural 
colour,  with  the  black  bow  at  her  throat,  the  new  hat 
in  a  bandbox,  and  the  renewed  sailor  on  her  head,  Kate 
waved  her  farewells  to  Nancy  Ellen  and  Robert  on  the 
platform,  then  walked  straight  to  the  dressing  room  of  the 
car,  and  changed  the  hats.  Nancy  Ellen  had  told  her  this 
was  not  the  thing  to  do.  She  should  travel  in  a  plain  un- 
trimmed  hat,  and  when  the  dust  and  heat  of  her  journey 
were  past,  she  should  bathe,  put  on  fresh  clothing,  and 
wear  such  a  fancy  hat  only  with  her  best  frocks,  in  the 
afternoon.  Kate  need  not  have  been  told  that.  Right 
instincts  and  Bates  economy  would  have  taught  her  the 
same  thing,  but  she  had  a  perverse  streak  in  her  nature. 
She  had  seen  herself  in  the  hat. 

The  milliner,  who  knew  enough  of  the  world  and 
human  nature  to  know  how  to  sell  Kate  the  hat,  when  she 
never  intended  to  buy  it,  and  knew  she  should  not  in  the 


i34  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

way  she  did,  had  said  that  before  fall  it  would  bring  her 
a  carriage,  which  put  into  bald  terms  meant  a  rich  hus- 
band. Now  Kate  liked  her  school  and  she  gave  it  her 
full  attention;  she  had  done,  and  still  intended  to  keep 
on  doing,  first-class  work  in  the  future;  but  her  school,  or 
anything  pertaining  to  it,  was  not  worth  mentioning  beside 
Nancy  Ellen's  home,  and  the  deep  understanding  and 
strong  feeling  that  showed  so  plainly  between  her  and 
Robert  Gray.  Kate  expected  to  marry  by  the  time 
she  was  twenty  or  soon  after;  all  Bates  girls  had,  most  of 
them  had  married  very  well  indeed.  She  frankly  envied 
Nancy  Ellen,  while  it  never  occurred  to  her  that  any  one 
would  criticise  her  for  saying  so.  Only  one  thing  could 
happen  to  her  that  would  surpass  what  had  come  to  her 
sister.  If  only  she  could  have  a  man  like  Robert  Gray, 
and  have  him  on  a  piece  of  land  of  their  own.  Kate  was 
a  girl,  but  no  man  of  the  Bates  tribe  ever  was  more  deeply 
bitten  by  the  lust  for  land.  She  was  the  true  daughter 
of  her  father,  in  more  than  one  way.  If  that  very  expen- 
sive hat  was  going  to  produce  the  man  why  not  let  it 
begin  to  work  from  the  very  start?  If  her  man  was 
somewhere,  only  waiting  to  see  her,  and  the  hat  would 
help  him  to  speedy  recognition,  why  miss  a  chance? 

She  thought  over  the  year,  and  while  she  deplored  the 
estrangement  from  home,  she  knew  that  if  she  had  to  go 
back  to  one  year  ago,  giving  up  the  present  and  what  it 
had  brought  and  promised  to  bring,  for  a  reconciliation 
with  her  father,  she  would  not  voluntarily  return  to  the 
old  driving,  nagging,  overwork,  and    skimping,  missing 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  LEGHORN  HAT     135 

every  real  comfort  of  life  to  buy  land,  in  which  she  never 
would  have  any  part. 

"You  get  your  knocks  'taking  the  wings  of  morning,'" 
thought  Kate  to  herself,  "but  after  all  it  is  the  only  thing 
to  do.  Nancy  Ellen  says  Sally  Whistler  is  pleasing  Mother 
very  well,  why  should  I  miss  my  chance  and  ruin  my 
temper  to  stay  at  home  and  do  the  work  done  by  a  woman 
who  can  do  nothing  else  ? " 

Kate  moved  her  head  slightly  to  feel  if  the  big,  beauti- 
ful hat  that  sat  her  braids  so  lightly  was  still  there. 
"Go  to  work,  you  beauty,"  thought  Kate.  "Do  some- 
thing better  for  me  than  George  Holt.  I'll  have  him  to 
fall  back  on  if  I  can't  do  better;  but  I  think  I  can.  Yes, 
I'm  very  sure  I  can!  If  you  do  your  part,  you  lovely 
plume,  I  know  I  can!" 

Toward  noon  the  train  ran  into  a  violent  summer  storm. 
The  sky  grew  black,  the  lightning  flashed,  the  wind  raved, 
the  rain  fell  in  gusts.  The  storm  was  at  its  height  when 
Kate  quit  watching  it  and  arose,  preoccupied  with  her 
first  trip  to  a  dining  car,  thinking  about  how  little  food 
she  could  order  and  yet  avoid  a  hunger  headache.  The 
twisting  whirlwind  struck  her  face  as  she  stepped  from 
the  day  coach  to  go  to  the  dining  car.  She  threw  back 
her  head  and  sucked  her  lungs  full  of  the  pure,  rain-chilled 
air.  She  was  accustomed  to  being  out  in  storms,  she  liked 
them.  One  second  she  paused  to  watch  the  gale  sweeping 
the  fields,  the  next  a  twitch  at  her  hair  caused  her  to  throw 
up  her  hands  and  clutch  wildly  at  nothing.  She  sprang 
to  the  step  railing  and  leaned  out  in  time  to  see  her 


136  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

wonderful  hat  whirl  against  the  corner  of  the  car,  hold  there 
an  instant  with  the  pressure  of  the  wind,  then  slide  down, 
draw  under,  and  drop  across  the  rail,  where  passing  wheels 
ground  it  to  pulp. 

Kate  stood  very  still  a  second,  then  she  reached  up  and 
tried  to  pat  the  disordered  strands  of  hair  into  place.  She 
turned  and  went  back  into  the  day  coach, opened  the  band- 
box, and  put  on  the  sailor.  She  resumed  her  old  occupa- 
tion of  thinking  things  over.  All  the  joy  had  vanished 
from  the  day  and  the  trip.  Looking  forward,  it  had 
seemed  all  right  to  defy  custom  and  Nancy  Ellen's  advice, 
and  do  as  she  pleased.  Looking  backward,  she  saw  that 
she  had  made  a  fool  of  herself  in  the  estimation  of  everyone 
in  the  car  by  not  wearing  the  sailor,  which  was  suitable 
for  her  journey,  and  would  have  made  no  such  mark  for 
a  whirling  wind. 

She  found  travelling  even  easier  than  any  one  had  told 
her.  Each  station  was  announced.  When  she  alighted, 
there  were  conveyances  to  take  her  and  her  luggage  to 
a  hotel,  patronized  almost  exclusively  by  teachers,  near 
the  schools  and  lecture  halls.  Large  front  suites  and 
rooms  were  out  of  the  question  for  Kate,  but  luckily  a 
tiny  corner  room  at  the  back  of  the  building  was  empty 
and  when  Kate  specified  how  long  she  would  remain,  she 
secured  it  at  a  less  figure  than  she  had  expected  to  pay. 
She  began  by  almost  starving  herself  at  supper  in  order 
to  save  enough  money  to  replace  her  hat  with  whatever 
she  could  find  that  would  serve  passably,  and  be  cheap 
enough.     That  far  she  proceeded  stoically ;  but  when  night 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  LEGHORN  HAT     137 

settled  and  she  stood  in  her  dressing  jacket  brushing  her 
hair,  something  gave  way.  Kate  dropped  on  her  bed  and 
cried  into  her  pillow,  as  she  never  had  cried  before  about 
anything.  It  was  not  all  about  the  hat.  While  she  was 
at  it,  she  shed  a  few  tears  about  every  cruel  thing  that  had 
happened  to  her  since  she  could  remember  that  she  had 
borne  tearlessly  at  the  time.  It  was  a  deluge  that  left 
her  breathless  and  exhausted.  When  she  finally  sat  up, 
she  found  the  room  so  close,  she  gently  opened  her  door 
and  peeped  into  the  hall.  There  was  a  door  opening  on 
an  outside  veranda,  running  across  the  end  of  the  building 
and  the  length  of  the  front. 

As  she  looked  from  her  door  and  listened  intently,  she 
heard  the  sound  of  a  woman's  voice  in  choking,  stifled 
sobs,  in  the  room  having  a  door  directly  across  the  narrow 
hall  from  hers. 

"My  Lord!     There's  two  of  us ["  said  Kate. 

She  leaned  closer,  listening  again,  but  when  she  heard  a 
short  groan  mingled  with  the  sobs,  she  immediately  tapped 
on  the  door.  Instantly  the  sobs  ceased  and  the  room 
became  still.  Kate  put  her  lips  to  the  crack  and  said  in 
her  ofF-hand  way:  "It's  only  a  school-marm,  rooming 
next  you.     If  you're  ill,  could  I  get  anything  for  you  ? " 

"Will  you  please  come  in?"  asked  a  muffled  voice. 

Kate  turned  the  knob,  and  stepping  inside,  closed  the 
door  after  her.  She  could  dimly  see  her  way  to  the  dresser, 
where  she  found  matches  and  lighted  the  gas.  On  the  bed 
lay  in  a  tumbled  heap  a  tiny,  elderly,  Dresden-china 
doll-woman.     She  was  fully  dressed,  even  to  her  wrap, 


138  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

bonnet,  and  gloves;  one  hand  clutched  her  side,  the  other 
held  a  handkerchief  to  her  lips.  Kate  stood  an  instant 
under  the  light,  studying  the  situation.  The  dark  eyes 
in  the  narrow  face  looked  appealingly  at  her.  The 
woman  tried  to  speak,  but  gasped  for  breath.  Kate 
saw  that  she  had  heart  trouble. 

"The  remedy!     Where  is  it?"  she  cried. 

The  woman  pointed  to  a  purse  on  the  dresser.  Kate 
opened  it,  took  out  a  small  bottle,  and  read  the  direc- 
tions. In  a  second,  she  was  holding  a  glass  to  the  woman's 
lips;  soon  she  was  better.     She  looked  at  Kate  eagerly. 

"Oh,  please  don't  leave  me,"  she  gasped. 

"Of  course  not!"  said  Kate  instantly.  "I'll  stay  as 
long  as  you  want  me." 

She  bent  over  the  bed  and  gently  drew  the  gloves 
from  the  frail  hands.  She  untied  and  slipped  off  the 
bonnet.  She  hunted  keys  in  the  purse,  opened  a  travel- 
ling bag,  and  found  what  she  required.  Then  slowly  and 
carefully  she  undressed  the  woman,  helped  her  into  a 
night  robe,  and  stooping  she  lifted  her  into  a  chair  until 
she  opened  the  bed.  After  giving  her  time  to  rest,  Kate 
pulled  down  the  white  wavy  hair  and  brushed  it  for  the 
night.  As  she  worked,  she  said  a  word  of  encouragement 
now  and  again;  when  she  had  done  all  she  could  see  to  do, 
she  asked  if  there  was  more.  The  woman  suddenly 
clung  to  her  hand  and  began  to  sob  wildly.  Kate  knelt 
beside  the  bed,  stroked  the  white  hair,  patted  the  shoulder 
she  could  reach,  and  talked  very  much  as  she  would  have 
to  a  little  girl. 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  LEGHORN  HAT      139 

"Please  don't  cry,"  she  begged.  "It  must  be  your 
heart;  you'll  surely  make  it  worse." 

"I'm  trying,"  said  the  woman,  "but  I've  been  scared 
sick.  I  most  certainly  would  have  died  if  you  hadn't 
come  to  me  and  found  the  medicine.  Oh,  that  dreadful 
Susette!     How  could  she?" 

The  clothing  Kate  had  removed  from  the  woman  had 
been  of  finest  cloth  and  silk.  Her  hands  wore  wonder- 
ful rings.  A  heavy  purse  was  in  her  bag.  Everything 
she  had  was  the  finest  that  money  could  buy,  while  she 
seemed  as  if  a  rough  wind  never  had  touched  her.  She 
appeared  so  frail  that  Kate  feared  to  let  her  sleep  without 
knowing  where  to  locate  her  friends. 

"She  should  be  punished  for  leaving  you  alone  among 
strangers,"  said   Kate  indignantly. 

"If  I  only  could  learn  to  mind  John,"  sighed  the  little 
woman.  "He  never  liked  Susette.  But  she  was  the 
very  best  maid  I  ever  had.  She  was  like  a  loving 
daughter,  until  all  at  once,  on  the  train,  among  strangers, 
she  flared  out  at  me,  and  simply  raved.  Oh,  it  was 
dreadful!" 

"And  knowing  you  were  subject  to  these  attacks,  she  did 
the  thing  that  would  precipitate  one,  and  then  left  you 
alone  among  strangers.  How  wicked!  How  cruel!"  said 
Kate  in  tense  indignation. 

"John  didn't  want  me  to  come.  But  I  used  to  be  a 
teacher,  and  I  came  here  when  this  place  was  mostly 
woods,  with  my  dear  husband.  Then  after  he  died, 
through  the  long  years  of  poverty  and  struggle,  I  would 


i4o  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

read  of  the  place  and  the  wonderful  meetings,  but  I  could 
never  afford  to  come.  Then  when  John  began  to  work 
and  made  good  so  fast  I  was  dizzy  half  the  time  with  his 
successes,  I  didn't  think  about  the  place.  But  lately, 
since  I've  had  everything  else  I  could  think  of,  some- 
thing possessed  me  to  come  back  here,  and  take  a  suite 
among  the  women  and  men  who  are  teaching  our  young 
people  so  wonderfully;  and  to  sail  on  the  lake,  and  hear 
the  lectures,  and  dream  my  youth  over  again.  I  think 
that  was  it  most  of  all,  to  dream  my  youth  over  again, 
to  try  to  relive  the  past." 

"There  now,  you  have  told  me  all  about  it,"  said 
Kate,  stroking  the  white  forehead  in  an  effort  to  produce 
drowsiness,  "close  your  eyes  and  go  to  sleep." 

"I  haven't  even  begun  to  tell  you,"  said  the  woman 
perversely.  "If  I  talked  all  night  I  couldn't  tell  you 
about  John.  How  big  he  is,  and  how  brave  he  is,  and 
how  smart  he  is,  and  how  he  is  the  equal  of  any  business 
man  in  Chicago,  and  soon,  if  he  keeps  on,  he  will  be  worth 
as  much  as  some  of  them — more  than  any  one  of  his  age, 
who  has  had  a  lot  of  help  instead  of  having  his  way  to 
make  alone,  and  a  sick  old  mother  to  support  besides.  No, 
I  couldn't  tell  you  in  a  week  half  about  John,  and  he 
didn't  want  me  to  come.  If  I  would  come,  then  he  wanted 
me  to  wait  a  few  days  until  he  finished  a  deal  so  he  could 
bring  me,  but  the  minute  I  thought  of  it  I  was  deter- 
mined to  come;  you  know  how  you  get." 

"I  know  how  badly  you  want  to  do  a  thing  you  have  set 
your  heart  on,"  admitted  Kate. 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  LEGHORN  HAT     141 

"I  had  gone  places  with  Susette  in  perfect  comfort. 
I  think  the  trouble  was  that  she  tried  from  the  first  to 
attract  John.  About  the  time  we  started,  he  let  her  see 
plainly  that  all  he  wanted  of  her  was  to  take  care  of  me; 
she  was  pretty  and  smart,  so  it  made  her  furious.  She  was 
pampered  in  everything,  as  no  maid  I  ever  had  before. 
John  is  young  yet,  and  I  think  he  is  very  handsome,  and 
he  wouldn't  pay  any  attention  to  her.  You  see  when  other 
boys  were  going  to  school  and  getting  acquainted  with  girls 
by  association,  even  when  he  was  a  little  bit  of  a  fellow  in 
knee  breeches,  I  had  to  let  him  sell  papers,  and  then  he 
got  into  a  shop,  and  he  invented  a  little  thing,  and  then 
a  bigger,  and  bigger  yet,  and  then  he  went  into  stocks  and 
things,  and  he  doesn't  know  anything  about  girls,  only 
about  sick  old  women  like  me.  He  never  saw  what  Susette 
was  up  to.  You  do  believe  that  I  wasn't  ugly  to  her,  don't 
you?" 

"You  couldn't  be  ugly  if  you  tried,"  said  Kate. 

The  woman  suddenly  began  to  sob  again,  this  time 
slowly,  as  if  her  forces  were  almost  spent.  She  looked  to 
Kate  for  the  sympathy  she  craved  and  for  the  first  time 
really  saw  her  closely. 

"Why,  you  dear  girl,"  she  cried.  "Your  face  is  all  tear 
stained.     You've  been  crying,  yourself." 

"Roaring  in  a  pillow,"  admitted  Kate. 

"But  my  dear,  forgive  me!  I  was  so  upset  with  that 
dreadful  woman.  Forgive  me  for  not  having  seen  that  you, 
too,  are  in  trouble.     Won't  you  please  tell  me?" 

"Of  course,"  said  Kate.     "I  lost  my  new  hat." 


142  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

"But,  my  dear!  Crying  over  a  hat?  When  it  is  so 
easy  to  get  another  ?     How  foolish ! "  said  the  woman. 

"Yes,  but  you  didn't  see  the  hat,"  said  Kate.  "And 
it  will  be  far  from  easy  to  get  another,  with  this  one  not 
paid  for  yet.  I'm  only  one  season  removed  from  sunbon- 
nets,  so  I  never  should  have  bought  it  at  all." 

The  woman  moved  in  bed,  and  taking  one  of  Kate's  long, 
crinkly  braids,  she  drew  the  wealth  of  gold  through  her 
ringers  repeatedly. 

"Tell  me  about  your  hat,"  she  said. 

So  to  humour  this  fragile  woman,  and  to  keep  from 
thinking  of  her  own  trouble,  Kate  told  the  story  of  her 
Leghorn  hat  and  ostrich  plume,  and  many  things  besides, 
for  she  was  not  her  usual  terse  self  with  her  new  friend 
who  had  to  be  soothed  to  forgetfulness. 

Kate  ended:  "I  was  all  wrong  to  buy  such  a  hat  in  the 
first  place.  I  couldn't  afford  it;  it  was  foolish  vanity. 
I'm  not  really  good-looking;  I  shouldn't  have  flattered 
myself  that  I  was.  Losing  it  before  it  was  paid  for  was 
just  good  for  me.     Never  again  will  I  be  so  foolish." 

"Why,  my  dear,  don't  say  such  things  or  think  them," 
chided  the  little  woman.  "You  had  as  good  a  right  to  a 
becoming  hat  as  any  girl.  Now  let  me  ask  you  one  ques- 
tion, and  then  I'll  try  to  sleep.  You  said  you  were  a 
teacher.  Did  you  come  here  to  attend  the  Summer 
School  for  Teachers  ? " 

"Yes,"  said  Kate. 

"Would  it  make  any  great  difference  to  you  if  yeu 
missed  a  few  days?"  she  asked. 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  LEGHORN  HAT     143 

"Not  the  least,"  said  Kate. 

"Well,  then,  you  won't  be  offended,  will  you,  if  I  ask 
you  to  remain  with  me  and  take  care  of  me  until  John 
comes?  I  could  send  him  a  message  to-night  that  I  am 
alone,  and  bring  him  by  this  time  to-morrow;  but  I  know 
he  has  business  that  will  cause  him  to  lose  money  should 
he  leave,  and  I  was  so  very  wilful  about  coming,  I  dread 
to  prove  him  right  so  conclusively  the  very  first  day. 
That  door  opens  into  a  room  reserved  for  Susette,  if  only 
you'd  take  it,  and  leave  the  door  unclosed  to-night,  and 
if  only  you  would  stay  with  me  until  John  comes  I  could 
well  afford  to  pay  you  enough  to  lengthen  your  stay  as 
long  as  you'd  like;  and  it  makes  me  so  happy  to  be  with 
such  a  fresh  young  creature.  Will  you  stay  with  me,  my 
dear?" 

"I  certainly  will,"  said  Kate  heartily.  "  If  you'll  only 
tell  me  what  I  should  do;  I'm  not  accustomed  to  rich, 
ladies,  you  know." 

"I'm  not  myself,"  said  the  little  woman,  "but  T  do 
seem  to  take  to  being  waited  upon  with  the  most  remark- 
able facility  1'' 


CHAPTER  IX 

A    SUNBONNET    GlRL 

WITH  the  first  faint  light  of  morning,  Kate  slip- 
ped to  the  door  to  find  her  charge  still  sleeping 
soundly.  It  was  eight  o'clock  when  she  heard 
a  movement  in  the  adjoining  room  and  went  again  to 
the  door.  This  time  the  woman  was  awake  and  smil- 
ingly waved  to  Kate  as  she  called:  "Good  morning! 
Come  right  in.  I  was  wondering  if  you  were  regretting 
your  hasty  bargain." 

"Not  a  bit  of  it!"  laughed  Kate.  "I  am  here  waiting 
to  be  told  what  to  do  first.  I  forgot  to  tell  you  my  name 
last  night.  It  is  Kate  Bates.  I'm  from  Bates  Corners, 
Hartley,  Indiana." 

The  woman  held  out  her  hand.  "I'm  so  very  glad  to 
meet  you,  Miss  Bates,"  she  said.  "My  name  is  Mariette 
Jardine.     My  home  is  in  Chicago." 

They  shook  hands,  smiling  at  each  other,  and  then  Kate 
said:  "Now,  Mrs.  Jardine,  what  shall  I  do  for  you 
first?" 

"I  will  be  dressed,  I  think,  and  then  you  may  bring  up 
the  manager  until  I  have  an  understanding  with  him, 
and  give  him  a  message  I  want  sent,  and  an  order  for  our 
breakfast.     I  wonder  if  it  wouldn't  be  nice  to  have  it 

144 


A  SUNBONNET  GIRL  145 

served  on  the  corner  of  the  veranda  in  front  of  our  rooms, 
under  the  shade  of  that  big  tree." 

"I  think  that  would  be  famous,"  said  Kate. 

They  ate  together  under  the  spreading  branches  of  a 
giant  maple  tree,  where  they  could  see  into  the  nest  of 
an  oriole  that  brooded  in  a  long  purse  of  gray  lint  and 
white  cotton  cord.  They  could  almost  reach  out  and 
touch  it.  The  breakfast  was  good,  nicely  served  by 
a  neat  maid,  evidently  doing  something  so  out  of  the 
ordinary  that  she  was  rather  stunned;  but  she  was  a  young 
person  of  some  self-possession,  for  when  she  removed  the 
tray,  Mrs.  Jardine  thanked  her  and  gave  her  a  coin  that 
brought  a  smiling:  "Thank  you  very  much.  If  you 
want  your  dinner  served  here  and  will  ask  for  Jennie 
Weeks,  I'd  like  to  wait  on  you  again." 

"Thank  you,"  said  Mrs.  Jardine,  "I  shall  remember 
that.  I  don't  like  changing  waiters  each  meal.  It  gives 
them  no  chance  to  learn  what  I  want  or  how  I  want  it." 

Then  she  and  Kate  slowly  walked  the  length  of  the 
veranda  several  times,  while  she  pointed  out  parts  of  the 
grounds  they  could  see  that  remained  as  she  had  known 
them  formerly,  and  what  were  improvements. 

When  Mrs.  Jardine  was  tired,  they  returned  to  the  room 
and  she  lay  on  the  bed  while  they  talked  of  many  things; 
talked  of  things  with  which  Kate  was  familiar,  and  some 
concerning  which  she  unhesitatingly  asked  questions  until 
she  felt  informed.  Mrs.  Jardine  was  so  dainty,  so  delicate, 
yet  so  full  of  life,  so  well  informed,  so  keen  mentally,  that  as 
she  talked  she  kept  Kate  chuckling  most  of  the  time.     She 


146  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

talked  of  her  home  life,  her  travels,  her  friends,  her  son. 
She  talked  of  politics,  religion,  and  education;  then  she 
talked  of  her  son  again.  She  talked  of  social  conditions, 
Civic  Improvement,  and  Woman's  Rights,  then  she  came 
back  to  her  son,  until  Kate  saw  that  he  was  the  real 
interest  in  the  world  to  her.  The  mental  picture  she 
drew  of  him  was  peculiar.  One  minute  Mrs.  Jardine 
spoke  of  him  as  a  man  among  men,  pushing,  fighting, 
forcing  matters  to  work  to  his  will,  so  Kate  imagined 
him  tall,  broad,  and  brawny,  indefatigable  in  his  under- 
takings; the  next,  his  mother  was  telling  of  such  thought- 
fulness,  such  kindness,  such  loving  care  that  Kate's  men- 
tal picture  shifted  to  a  neat,  exacting  little  man,  purely 
effeminate  as  men  ever  can  be;  but  whatever  she  thought, 
some  right  instinct  prevented  her  from  making  a  com- 
ment or  asking  a  question. 

Once  she  sat  looking  far  across  the  beautiful  lake  with 
such  an  expression  on  her  face  that  Mrs.  Jardine  said  to 
her:     "What  are  you  thinking  of,  my  dear?" 

Kate  said  smilingly:  "Oh,  I  was  thinking  of  what  a 
wonderful  school  I  shall  teach  this  winter." 

"Tell  me  what  you  mean,"  said  Mrs.  Jardine. 

"Why,  with  even  a  month  of  this,  I  shall  have  riches 
stored  for  every  day  of  the  year,"  said  Kate.  "None 
of  my  pupils  ever  saw  a  lake,  that  I  know  of.  I  shall 
tell  them  of  this  with  its  shining  water,  its  rocky,  shady, 
sandy  shore  lines;  of  the  rowboats  and  steam-boats,  and 
the  people  from  all  over  the  country.  Before  I  go  back,  I 
can  tell  them  of  wonderful  lectures,  concerts,  educational 


A  SUNBONNET  GIRL  147 

demonstrations  here.  I  shall  get  much  from  the  experi- 
ences of  other  teachers.  I  shall  delight  my  pupils  with 
just  you." 

"In  what  way?"  asked  Mrs.  Jardine. 

"Oh,  I  shall  tell  them  of  a  dainty  little  woman  who 
knows  everything.  From  you  I  shall  teach  my  girls  to 
be  simple,  wholesome,  tender,  and  kind;  to  take  the  gifts 
of  God  thankfully,  reverently,  yet  with  self-respect. 
From  you  I  can  tell  them  what  really  fine  fabrics  are, 
and  about  laces,  and  linens.  When  the  subjects  arise, 
as  they  always  do  in  teaching,  I  shall  describe  each  ring 
you  wear,  each  comb  and  pin,  even  the  handkerchiefs  you 
carry,  and  the  bags  you  travel  with.  To  teach  means  to 
educate,  and  it  is  a  big  task;  but  it  is  almost  painfully 
interesting.  Each  girl  of  my  school  shall  go  into  life  a 
gentler,  daintier  woman,  more  careful  of  her  person  and 
speech  because  of  my  having  met  you.  Isn't  that  a  fine 
thought  ? " 

"Why,  you  darling!"  cried  Mrs.  Jardine.  "Life  is 
always  having  lovely  things  in  store  for  me.  Yesterday  I 
thought  Susette's  leaving  me  as  she  did  was  the  most  cruel 
thing  that  ever  happened  to  me.  To-day  I  get  from  it 
this  lovely  experience.  If  you  are  straight  from  sunbon- 
nets,  as  you  told  me  last  night,  where  did  you  get  these 
advanced  ideas?" 

"If  sunbonnets  could  speak,  many  of  them  would  tell 
of  surprising  heads  they  have  covered,"  laughed  Kate. 
"Life  deals  with  women  much  the  same  as  with  men. 
If  we  go  back  to  where  we  start,  history  can  prove  to  you 


148  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

that  there  are  ten  sunbonnets  to  one  Leghorn  hat,  in  the 
high  places  of  the  world." 

"Not  to  entertain  me,  but  because  I  am  interested, 
my  dear,  will  you  tell  me  about  your  particular  sun- 
bonnet?"  asked  Mrs.  Jardine. 

Kate  sat  staring  across  the  blue  lake  with  wide  eyes,  a 
queer  smile  twisting  her  lips.  At  last  she  said  slowly: 
"Well,  then,  my  sunbonnet  is  in  my  trunk.  I'm  not  so 
far  away  from  it  but  that  it  still  travels  with  me.  It's 
blue  chambray,  made  from  pieces  left  from  my  first 
pretty  dress.  It  is  ruffled,  and  has  white  stitching.  I 
made  it  myself.  The  head  that  it  fits  is  another  matter. 
I  didn't  make  that,  or  its  environment,  or  what  was 
taught  it,  until  it  was  of  age,  and  had  worked  out  its  legal 
time  of  service  to  pay  for  having  been  a  head  at  all.  But 
my  head  is  now  free,  in  my  own  possession,  ready  to  go 
as  fast  and  far  on  the  path  of  life  as  it  develops  the  brains 
to  carry  it.  You'd  smile  if  I  should  tell  you  what  I'd 
ask  of  life,  if  I  could  have  what  I  want." 

"I  scarcely  think  so.     Please  tell  me." 

"You'll  be  shocked,"  warned  Kate. 

"Just  so  it  isn't  enough  to  set  my  heart  rocking  again," 
6aid  Mrs.  Jardine. 

"We'll  stop  before  that,"  laughed  Kate.  "Then  if 
you  will  have  it,  I  want  of  life  by  the  time  I  am  twenty 
a  man  of  my  stature,  dark  eyes  and  hair,  because  I  am  so 
light.  I  want  him  to  be  honest,  forceful,  hard  working, 
with  a  few  drops  of  the  milk  of  human  kindness  in  his 
heart,  and  the  same  ambitions  I  have." 


A  SUNBONNET  GIRL  149 

"And  what  are  your  ambitions?"  asked  Mrs.  Jardine. 

"To  own,  and  to  cultivate,  and  to  bring  to  the  highest 
state  of  efficiency  at  least  two  hundred  acres  of  land,  with 
convenient  and  attractive  buildings  and  pedigreed  stock, 
and  to  mother  at  least  twelve  perfect  physical  and  mental 
boys  and  girls." 

"Oh,  my  soul!"  cried  Mrs.  Jardine,  falling  back  in  her 
chair,  her  mouth  agape.  "My  dear,  you  don't  mean 
that?     You  only  said  that  to  shock  me." 

"But  why  should  I  wish  to  shock  you?  I  sincerely 
mean  it,"  persisted  Kate. 

"You  amazing  creature!  I  never  heard  a  girl  talk  like 
that  before,"  said  Mrs.  Jardine. 

"But  you  can't  look  straight  ahead  of  you  any  direction 
you  turn  without  seeing  a  girl  working  for  dear  life  to 
attract  the  man  she  wants;  if  she  can't  secure  him, 
some  other  man;  and  in  lieu  of  him,  any  man  at  all,  in 
preference  to  none.  Life  shows  us  woman  on  the  age-old 
quest  every  day,  everywhere  we  go;  why  be  so  secretive 
about  it?  Why  not  say  honestly  what  we  want,  and  take 
it  if  we  can  get  it  ?  At  any  rate,  that  is  the  most  import- 
ant thing  inside  my  sunbonnet.   I  knewyou'd  be  shocked." 

"  But  I  am  not  shocked  at  what  you  say,  I  agree  with 
you.  What  I  am  shocked  at  is  your  ideals.  I  thought 
you'd  want  to  educate  yourself  to  such  superiority  over 
common  woman  that  you  could  take  the  platform,  and 
backed  by  your  splendid  physique,  work  for  suffrage  or 
lecture  to  educate  the  masses." 

"I  think  more  could  be  accomplished   with    selected 


i$o  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

specimens,  by  being  steadily  on  the  job,  than  by  giving 
an  hour  to  masses.  I'm  not  much  interested  in  masses. 
They  are  too  abstract  for  me;  I  prefer  one  stern  reality. 
And  as  for  (Woman's  Rights,  if  anybody  gives  this 
woman  the  right  to  do  anything  more  than  she  already 
has  the  right  to  do,  there'll  surely  be  a  scandal." 

Mrs.  Jardine  lay  back  in  her  chair  laughing. 

"You  are  the  most  refreshing  person  I  have  met  in  all 
my  travels.  Then  to  put  it  baldly,  you  want  of  life  a  man, 
a  farm,  and  a  family." 

"You  comprehend  me  beautifully,"  said  Kate.  "All 
my  life  I've  worked  like  a  towhead  to  heS  earn 
two  hundred  acres  of  land  for  someone  else.  I  think 
there's  nothing  I  want  so  much  as  two  hundred  acres  of 
land  for  myself.  I'd  undertake  to  do  almost  anything 
with  it,  if  I  had  it.  I  know  I  could,  if  I  had  the  shoulder- 
to-shoulder,  real  man.  You  notice  it  will  take  consider- 
able of  a  man  to  touch  shoulders  with  me;  I'm  a  head  taller 
than  most  of  them." 

Mrs.  Jardine  looked  at  her  speculatively.  "Ummm!" 
she  murmured.     Kate  laughed. 

"For  eighteen  years  I  have  been  under  marching 
orders,"  said  Kate.  "Over  a  year  ago  I  was  advised 
by  a  minister  to  'take  the  wings  of  morning'  so  I 
took  wing.  I  started  on  one  grand  flight  and  fell  ker- 
smash  in  short  order.  Life  since  has  been  a  series  of 
battering  my  wings  until  I  have  almost  decided  to  buy 
some  especially  heavy  boots,  and  walk  the  remainder  of 
the  way.     As  a  concrete  example,  I  started  out  yesterday 


A  SUNBONNET  GIRL  151 

morning  wearing  a  hat  that  several  very  reliable  parties 
assured  me  would  so  assist  me  to  flight  that  I  might  at 
least  have  a  carriage.  Where,  oh,  where  are  my  hat  and  my 
carriage  now?  The  carriage,  non  est!  The  hat — I  am 
humbly  hoping  some  little  country  girl,  who  has  lived 
a  life  as  barren  as  mine,  will  find  the  remains  and  retrieve 
the  velvet  bow  for  a  hair-ribbon.  As  for  the  man  that 
Leghorn  hat  was  supposed  to  symbolize,  he  won't  even 
look  my  way  when  I  appear  in  my  bobby  little  sailor. 
He's  as  badly  crushed  out  of  existence  as  my  beautiful 
hat." 

"You  never  should  have  been  wearing  such  a  hat  to 
travel  in,  my  dear,"  murmured  Mrs.  Jardine. 

"Certainly  not!"  said  Kate.  "I  knew  it.  My  sister 
told  me  that.  Common  sense  told  me  that!  But  what 
has  that  got  to  do  with  the  fact  that  I  was  wearing  the 
hat?     I  guess  I  have  you  there!" 

"Far  from  it!"  said  Mrs.  Jardine.  "If  you're  going 
to  start  out  in  life,  calmly  ignoring  the  advice  of  those  who 
love  you,  and  the  dictates  of  common  sense,  the  result  will 
be  that  soon  the  wheels  of  life  will  be  grinding  you, 
instead  of  a  train  making  bag-rags  of  your  hat." 

"Hummm!"  said  Kate.  "There  is  food  for  reflection 
there.  But  wasn't  it  plain  logic,  that  if  the  hat  was  to 
bring  the  man,  it  should  be  worn  where  at  any  minute  he 
might  see  it?" 

"But  my  dear,  my  dear!  If  such  a  man  as  a  woman 
like  you  should  have,  had  seen  you  wearing  that  hat  in  the 
morning,  on  a  railway  train,  he  would  merely  have  thought 


152  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

you  prideful  and  extravagant.  You  would  have  been  far 
more  attractive  to  any  man  I  know  in  your  blue  sun- 
bonnet." 

-  "I  surely  have  learned  that  lesson,"  said  Kate.  "Here- 
after, sailors  or  sunbonnets  for  me  in  the  morning.  Now 
what  may  I  do  to  add  to  your  comfort?" 

"Leave  me  for  an  hour  until  I  take  a  nap,  and  then  we'll 
have  lunch  and  go  to  a  lecture.  I  can  go  to-day,  per- 
fectly well,  after  an  hour's  rest." 

So  Kate  went  for  a  very  interesting  walk  around  the 
grounds.  When  she  returned  Mrs.  Jardine  was  still 
sleeping  so  she  wrote  Nancy  Ellen,  telling  all  about  her 
adventure,  but  not  a  word  about  losing  her  hat.  Then 
she  had  a  talk  with  Jennie  Weeks  whom  she  found  lin- 
gering in  the  hall  near  her  door.  When  at  last  that 
nap  was  over,  a  new  woman  seemed  to  have  devel- 
oped. Mrs.  Jardine  was  so  refreshed  and  interested 
the  remainder  of  the  day  that  it  was  easier  than  before 
for  Kate  to  see  how  shocked  and  ill  she  had  been.  As  she 
helped  dress  her  for  lunch,  Kate  said  to  Mrs.  Jardine: 
"I  met  the  manager  as  I  was  going  to  post  a  letter  to  my 
sister,  so  I  asked  him  always  to  send  you  the  same 
waiter.  He  said  he  would,  and  I'd  like  you  to  pay 
particular  attention  to  her  appearance,  and  the  way 
she  does  her  work." 

"Why?"  asked  Mrs.  Jardine. 

"I  met  her  in  the  hall  as  I  came  back  from  posting  my 
letter,  so  we  Visited'  a  little,  as  the  country  folks  say. 
She  has  taught  one  winter  of  country  school,  a  small 


A  SUNBONNET  GIRL  153 

school  in  an  out  county.  She's  here  waiting  table  two 
hours  three  times  a  day,  to  pay  for  her  room  and  board. 
In  the  meantime,  she  attends  all  the  sessions  and  studies 
as  much  as  she  can;  but  she's  very  poor  material  for  a 
teacher.  I  pity  her  pupils.  She's  a  little  thing,  bright 
enough  in  her  way,  but  she  has  not  much  initiative,  not 
strong  enough  for  the  work,  and  she  has  not  enough  spunk. 
She'll  never  lead  the  minds  of  school  children  anywhere 
that  will  greatly  benefit  them." 

"And  your  deduction  is " 

"That  she  would  make  you  a  kind,  careful,  obedient 
maid,  who  is  capable  enough  to  be  taught  to  wash  your  hair 
and  manicure  you  with  deftness,  and  who  would  serve  you 
for  respect  as  well  as  hire.  I  think  it  would  be  a  fine  ar- 
rangement for  you  and  good  for  her." 

"This  surely  is  kind  of  you,"  said  Mrs.  Jardine.  "I'll 
keep  strict  watch  of  Jennie  Weeks.  If  I  could  find  a 
really  capable  maid  here  and  not  have  to  wire  John  to 
bring  one,  I'd  be  so  glad.  It  does  so  go  against  the  grain 
to  prove  to  a  man  that  he  has  a  right  to  be  more  conceited 
than  he  is  naturally." 

As  they  ate  lunch  Kate  said  to  Mrs.  Jardine:  "I  noticed 
one  thing  this  morning  that  is  going  to  be  balm  to  my  soul. 
I  passed  many  teachers  and  summer  resorters  going  to  the 
lecture  halls  and  coming  from  them,  and  half  of  them  were 
bareheaded,  so  my  state  will  not  be  so  remarkable,  until 
I  can  get  another  hat." 

"'God  moves  in  a  mysterious  way,  His  wonders  to  per- 
form,'" laughingly  quoted  Mrs.  Jardine.     "You  thought 


154  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

losing  that  precious  hat  was  a  calamity;  but  if  you  hadn't 
lost  it,  you  probably  would  have  slept  soundly  while  I  died 
across  the  hall.  My  life  is  worth  the  price  of  a  whole 
millinery  shop  to  me;  I  think  you  value  the  friendship  we 
are  developing;  I  foresee  I  shall  get  a  maid  who  will  not 
disgrace  me  in  public;  you  will  have  a  full  summer  here; 
now  truly,  isn't  all  this  worth  many  hats?" 

"Of  course!  It's  like  a  fairy  tale,"  said  Kate.  "Still, 
you  didn't  see  the  hat!" 

"But  you  described  it  in  a  truly  graphic  manner,"  said 
Mrs.  Jardine. 

"When  I  am  the  snowiest  of  great-grandmothers,  I  shall 
still  be  telling  small  people  about  the  outcome  of  my  first 
attempt  at  vanity,"  laughed  Kate. 

The  third  morning  dawned  in  great  beauty,  a  "misty, 
moisty  morning,"  Mrs.  Jardine  called  it.  The  sun  tried 
to  shine  but  could  not  quite  pierce  the  intervening  clouds, 
so  on  every  side  could  be  seen  exquisite  pictures  painted 
in  delicate  pastel  colours.  Kate,  i  fresh  and  rosy,  wear- 
ing a  blue  chambray  dress,  was  a  picture  well  worth 
seeing.  Mrs.  Jardine  kept  watching  her  so  closely  that 
Kate  asked  at  last:  "Have  you  made  up  your  mind,  yet?" 

"No,  and  I  am  afraid  I  never  shall,"  answered  Mrs. 
Jardine.  "You  are  rather  an  astonishing  creature. 
You're  so  big,  so  vital;  you  absorb  knowledge  like  a  sponge 
takes  water " 

"And  for  the  same  purpose,"  laughed  Kate.  "That  it 
may  be  used  for  the  benefit  of  others.  Tell  me  some 
more  about  me.     I  find  me  such  an  interesting  subject." 


A  SUNBONNET  GIRL  155 

"No  doubt!"  admitted  Mrs.  Jardine.  "Not  a  doubt 
about  that!  We  are  all  more  interested  in  ourselves  than 
in  any  one  else  in  this  world,  until  love  comes;  then  we 
soon  learn  to  love  a  man  more  than  life,  and  when  a  child 
comes  we  learn  another  love,  so  clear,  so  high,  so  purifying, 
that  we  become  of  no  moment  at  all,  and  live  only  for 
those  we  love." 

"You  speak  for  yourself,  and  a  class  of  women 
like  you,"  answered  Kate  gravely.  "I'm  very  well 
acquainted  with  many  women  who  have  married  and 
borne  children,  and  who  are  possibly  more  selfish  than 
before.  The  Great  Experience  never  touched  them  at 
all." 

There  was  a  tap  at  the  door.  Kate  opened  it  and 
delivered  to  Mrs.  Jardine  a  box  so  big  that  it  almost 
blocked  the  doorway. 

Mrs.  Jardine  lifted  from  the  box  a  big  Leghorn  hat  of 
weave  so  white  and  fine  it  almost  seemed  like  woven  cloth 
instead  of  braid.  There  was  the  bow  in  front,  but  the 
bow  was  nested  in  and  tied  through  a  web  of  flowered 
gold  lace.  One  velvet  end  was  slightly  long  and  concealed 
a  wire  which  lifted  one  side  of  the  brim  a  trifle,  beneath 
which  was  fastened  a  smashing  big,  pale-pink  velvet  rose. 
There  was  an  ostrich  plume  even  longer  than  the  other, 
broader,  blacker,  as  wonderful  a  feather  as  ever  dropped 
from  the  plumage  of  a  lordly  bird.  Mrs.  Jardine  shook 
the  hat  in  such  a  way  as  to  set  the  feather  lifting  and  wav- 
ing after  the  confinement  of  the  box.  With  slender,  sure 
fingers  she  set  the  bow  and  lace  as  they  should  tie,  and 


156  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

touched  the  petals  of  the  rose.  She  inspected  the  hat 
closely,  shook  it  again,  and  held  it  toward  Kate. 

"A  very  small  price  to  pay  for  the  breath  of  life,  which 
I  was  rapidly  losing,"  she  said.  "Do  me  the  favour  to 
accept  it  as  casually  as  I  offer  it.  Did  I  understand  your 
description  an}rwhere  near  right  ?     Is  this  your  hat  ? " 

"Thank  you,"  said  Kate.  "It  is  just  'the  speaking 
image'  of  my  hat,  but  it's  a  glorified,  sublimated,  celestial 
image.  What  I  described  was  merely  a  hat.  This  is 
what  I  think  I  have  lately  heard  Nancy  Ellen  mention 
as  a  'creation/     Wheuuuuuu!" 

She  went  to  the  mirror,  arranged  her  hair,  set  the  hat 
on  her  head,  and  turned. 

"Gracious  Heaven!"  said  Mrs.  Jardine.  "My  dear, 
I  understand  now  why  you  wore  that  hat  on  your 
journey." 

"I  wore  that  hat,"  said  Kate,  "as  an  ascension  stalk 
wears  its  crown  of  white  lilies,  as  a  bobolink  wears  its 
snowy  courting  crest,  as  a  bride  wears  her  veil;  but  please 
take  this  from  me  to-night,  lest  I  sleep  in  it!" 

That  night  Mrs.  Jardine  felt  tired  enough  to  propose 
resting  in  her  room,  with  Jennie  Weeks  where  she  couldibe 
called;  so  for  the  first  time  Kate  left  her,  and,  donning  her 
best  white  dress  and  the  hat,  attended  a  concert.  At  its 
close  she  walked  back  to  the  hotel  with  some  of  the  other 
teachers  stopping  there,  talked  a  few  minutes  in  the  hall, 
went  to  the  office  desk  for  mail,  and  slowly  ascended  the 
stairs,  thinking  intently.  What  she  thought  was:  "If  I 
am  not  mistaken,  my  hat  did  a  small  bit  of  execution  to- 


A  SUNBONNET  GIRL  157 

night."  She  stepped  to  her  room  to  lock  the  door  and 
stopped  a  few  minutes  to  arrange  the  clothing  she  had 
discarded  when  she  dressed  hurriedly  before  going  to 
the  concert,  then,  the  letters  in  her  hand,  she  opened  Mrs. 
Jardine's  door. 

A  few  minutes  before,  there  had  been  a  tap  on  that 
same  door. 

"Come  in,"  said  Mrs.  Jardine,  expecting  Kate  or  Jennie 
Weeks.  She  slowly  lifted  her  eyes  and  faced  a  tall,  slender 
man  standing  there. 

"John  Jardine,  what  in  this  world  are  you  doing  here?" 
she  demanded  after  the  manner  of  mothers,  "and  what  in 
this  world  has  happened  to  you?" 

"Does  it  show  on  me  like  that?"  he  stammered. 

"Was  your  train  in  a  wreck?  Are  you  in  trouble?"  she 
asked.  "Something  shows  plainly  enough,  but  I  don't 
understand  what  it  is." 

"Are  you  all  right,  Mother?"  He  advanced  a  step,  look- 
ing intently  at  her. 

"Of  course  I'm  all  right!  You  can  see  that  for  your- 
self.    The  question  is,  what's  the  matter  with  you?" 

"If  you  will  have  it,  there  is  something  the  matter. 
Since  I  saw  you  last  I  have  seen  a  woman  I  want  to  marry, 
that's  all;  unless  I  add  that  I  want  her  so  badly  that  I 
haven't  much  sense  left.    Now  you  have  it!" 

"No,  I  don't  have  it,  and  I  won't  have  it!  What  de- 
signing creature  has  been  trying  to  intrigue  you  now?" 
she  demanded. 

"Not  any  one.     She  didn't  see  me,  even.     I  saw  her. 


158  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

I've  been  following  her  for  nearly  two  hours  instead  of 
coming  straight  to  you,  as  I  always  have.  So  you  see 
where  I  am.  I  expect  you  won't  forgive  me,  but  since 
I'm  here,  you  must  know  that  I  could  only  come  on  the 
evening  train." 

He  crossed  the  room,  knelt  beside  the  chair,  and  took»it 
and  its  contents  into  his  arms. 

"Are  you  going  to  scold  me?"  he  asked. 

"I  am,"  she  said.  "I  am  going  to  take  you  out  and 
push  you  into  the  deepest  part  of  the  lake.  I'm  so  dis- 
appointed. Why,  John,  for  the  first  time  in  my  life  I've 
selected  a  girl  for  you,  the  very  most  suitable  girl  I  ever 
saw,  and  I  hoped  and  hoped  for  three  days  that  when 
you  came  you'd  like  her.  Of  course  I  wasn't  so  rash 
as  to  say  a  word  to  her!  But  I've  thought  myself  into  a 
state  where  I'm  going  to  be  sick  with  disappointment." 

"But  wait,  Mother,  wait  until  I  can  manage  to  meet 
the  girl  I've  seen.  Wait  until  I  have  a  chance  to  show 
her  to  you!"  he  begged. 

"I  suppose  I  shall  be  forced,"  she  said.  "I've  always 
dreaded  it,  now  here  it  comes.  Oh,  why  couldn't  it  have 
been  Kate?  Why  did  she  go  to  that  silly  concert?  If 
only  I'd  kept  her  here,  and  we'd  walked  down  to  the 
station.     I'd  half  a  mind  to!" 

Then  the  door  opened,  and  Kate  stepped  into  the  room. 
She  stood  still,  looking  at  them.  John  Jardine  stood 
up,  looking  at  her.  His  mother  sat  staring  at  them  in 
turn.     Kate  recovered  first. 

"Please  excuse  me,"  she  said. 


A  SUNBONNET  GIRL  159 

She  laid  the  letters  on  a  small  table  and  turned  to  go. 
John  caught  his  Mother's  hand  closer,  when  he  found 
himself  holding  it. 

"If  you  know  the  young  lady,  Mother,"  he  said,  "why 
don't  you  introduce  us?" 

"Oh,  I  was  so  bewildered  by  your  coming,"  she  said. 
"Kate,  dear,  let  me  present  my  son." 

Kate  crossed  the  room,  and  looking  straight  into  each 
other's  eyes  they  shook  hands  and  found  chairs. 

"How  was  your  concert,  my  dear?"  asked  Mrs.  Jardine. 

"I  don't  think  it  was  very  good,"  said  Kate.  "Not  at 
all  up  to  my  expectations.  How  did  you  like  it,  Mr. 
Jardine?" 

"Was  that  a  concert?"  he  asked. 

"It  was  supposed  to  be,"  said  Kate. 

"Thank  you  for  the  information,"  he  said.  "I  didn't 
see  it,  I  didn't  hear  it,  I  don't  know  where  I  was." 

"This  is  most  astonishing,"  said  Kate. 

Mrs.  Jardine  looked  at  her  son,  her  eyes  two  big  im- 
perative question  marks.     He  nodded  slightly. 

"My  soul!"  she  cried,  then  lay  back  in  her  chair  half- 
laughing,  half-crying,  until  Kate  feared  she  might  have 
another  attack  of  heart  trouble. 


CHAPTER  X 
John  Jardine's  Courtship 

THE  following  morning  they  breakfasted  together 
under  the  branches  of  the  big  maple  tree  in  a 
beautiful  world.  Mrs.  Jardine  was  so  happy  she 
could  only  taste  a  bite  now  and  then,  when  urged  to. 
Kate  was  trying  to  keep  her  head  level,  and  be  natural. 
John  Jardine  wanted  to  think  of  everything,  and  succeeded 
fairly  well.  It  seemed  to  Kate  that  he  could  invent  more 
ways  to  spend  money,  and  spend  it  with  freer  hand,  than 
any  man  she  ever  had  heard  of,  but  she  had  to  confess 
that  the  men  she  had  heard  about  were  concerned  with 
keeping  their  money,  not  scattering  it. 

"Did  you  hear  unusual  sounds  when  John  came  to  bid 
me  good-night?"  asked  Mrs.  Jardine  of  Kate. 

"Yes,"  laughed  Kate,  "I  did.  And  I'm  sure  I  made  a 
fairly  accurate  guess  as  to  the  cause." 

"What  did  you  think?"  asked  Mrs.  Jardine. 

"I  thought  Mr.  Jardine  had  missed  Susette,  and  you'd 
had  to  tell  him,"  said  Kate. 

"You're  quite  right.  It's  a  good  thing  she  went  on 
and  lost  herself  in  New  York.  I'm  not  at  all  sure  that  he 
doesn't  contemplate  starting  out  to  find  her  yet." 

"Let  Susette  go!"  said  Kate.     "We're  interested  in 

1 60 


JOHN  JARDINE'S  COURTSHIP  j6i 

forgetting  her.  There's  a  little  country  school-teacher 
here,  who  wants  to  take  her  place,  and  it  will  be  the  very- 
thing  for  your  mother  and  for  her,  too.  She's  the  one 
serving  us;  notice  her  in  particular." 

"If  she's  a  teacher,  how  does  she  come  to  be  serving 
us?"  he  asked. 

"I'm  a  teacher;  how  do  I  come  to  be  dining  with  you?" 
said  Kate.  "This  is  such  a  queer  world,  when  you  go  ad- 
venturing in  it.  Jennie  had  a  small  school  in  an  out  county, 
a  widowed  mother  and  a  big  family  to  help  support;  so 
she  figured  that  the  only  way  she  could  come  here  to  try 
to  prepare  herself  for  a  better  school  was  to  work  for  her 
room  and  board.  She  serves  the  table  two  hours,  three 
times  a  day,  and  studies  between  times.  She  tells  me  that 
almost  every  waiter  in  the  dining  hall  is  a  teacher.  Please 
watch  her  movements  and  manner  and  see  if  you  think 
her  suitable.  Goodness  knows  she  isn't  intended  for  a 
teacher." 

"  I  like  her  very  much,"  said  John  Jardine.  " I'll  engage 
her  as  soon  as  we  finish." 

Kate  smiled,  but  when  she  saw  the  ease  and  dexterity 
with  which  he  ended  Jennie  Weeks'  work  as  a  waiter  and 
installed  her  as  his  mother's  maid,  making  the  least  de- 
tail all  right  with  his  mother,  with  Jennie,  with  the  man- 
ager, she  realized  that  there  had  been  nothing  for  her  to 
smile  about.  Jennie  was  delighted,  and  began  her  new 
undertaking  earnestly,  with  sincere  desire  to  please. 
Kate  helped  her  all  she  could,  while  Mrs  Jardine  devel- 
oped a  fund  of  patience  commensurate  with  the  need  of  it. 


i62  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

She  would  have  endured  more  inconvenience  than  re- 
sulted from  Jennie's  inexperienced  hands  because  of  the 
realization  that  her  son  and  the  girl  she  had  so  quickly- 
learned  to  admire  were  on  the  lake,  rambling  the  woods, 
or  hearing  lectures  together. 

When  she  asked  him  how  long  he  could  remain,  he  said 
as  long  as  she  did.  When  she  explained  that  she  was  en- 
joying herself  thoroughly  and  had  no  idea  how  long  she 
would  want  to  stay,  he  said  that  was  all  right;  he  had 
only  had  one  vacation  in  his  life;  it  was  time  he  was  having 
another.  When  she  marvelled  at  this  he  said:  "Now, 
look  here,-Mother,  let's  get  this  business  straight,  right  at 
the  start.  I  told  you  when  I  came  I'd  seen  the  woman 
I  wanted.  If  you  want  me  to  go  back  to  business,  the  way 
to  do  it  is  to  help  me  win  her." 

"But  I  don't  want  you  'to  go  back  to  business';  1 
want  you  to  have  a  long  vacation,  and  learn  all  you  can 
from  the  educational  advantages  here." 

"It's  too  late  for  me  to  learn  more  than  I  get  every  day 
by  knocking  around  and  meeting  people.  I've  tried 
books  two  or  three  times,  and  I've  given  them  up;  I  can't  do 
it.  I've  waited  too  long,  I've  no  way  to  get  down  to  it, 
I  can't  remember  to  save  my  soul." 

"But  you  can  remember  anything  on  earth  about  a 
business  deal,"  she  urged. 

"Of  course  I  can.  I  was  born  with  a  business  head. 
It  was  remember,  or  starve,  and  see  you  starve.  If  I'd 
had  the  books  at  the  time  they  would  have  helped;  now  it's 
too  late,  and  I'll  never  try  it  again,  that's  settled.     Much 


JOHN  JARDINE'S  COURTSHIP  163 

as  I  want  to  marry  Miss  Bates,  she'll  have  to  take  me  or 
leave  me  as  I  am.  I  can't  make  myself  over  for  her  or  for 
you.  I  would  if  I  could,  but  that's  one  of  the  things 
I-can't  do,  and  I  admit  it.  If  I'm  not  good  enough  for 
her  as  I  am,  she'll  have  the  chance  to  tell  me  so  the  very 
first  minute  I  think  it's  proper  to  ask  her." 

"John,  you  are  good  enough  for  the  best  woman  on 
earth.  There  never  was  a  better  lad,  it  isn't  that,"  and 
you  know  it.  I  am  so  anxious  that  I  can  scarcely  wait; 
but  you  must  wait.  You  must  give  her  time  and  go  slowly, 
and  you  must  be  careful,  oh,  so  very  careful!  She's  a 
teacher  and  a  student;  she  came  here  to  study." 

"I'll  fix  that.  I  can  rush  things  so  that  there'll  be  no 
time  to  study." 

"You'll  make  a  mistake  if  you  try  it.  You'd  far  better 
let  her  go  her  own  way  and  only  appear  when  she  has  time 
for  you,"  she  advised. 

"That's  a  fine  idea!"  he  cried.  "A  lot  of  ice  I'd  cut, 
sitting  back  waiting  for  a  signal  to  run  after  a  girl,  like  a 
poodle.  The  way  to  do  is  the  same  as  with  any  business 
deal.  See  what  you  want,  overcome  anything  in  your 
way,  and  get  it.  I'd  go  crazy  hanging  around  like  that. 
You've  always  told  me  I  couldn't  do  the  things  in 
business  I  said  I  would;  and  I've  always  proved  to 
you  that  I  could,  by  doing  them.  Now  watch  me  do 
this." 

"You  know  I'll  do  anything  to  help  you,  John.  You 
know  how  proud  I  am  of  you,  how  I  love  you!  I  realize 
now  that  I've  talked  volumes  to  Kate  about  you.     I've 


i64  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

told  her  everything  from  the  time  you  were  a  little  boy  and 
I  slaved  for  you,  until  now,  when  you  slave  for  me." 

"Including  how  many  terms  I'd  gone  to  school?" 

"  Yes,  I  even  told  her  that,"  she  said. 

"Well,  what  did  she  seem  to  think  about  it?"  he  asked. 

"I  don't  know  what  she  thought,  she  didn't  say  any- 
thing. There  was  nothing  to  say.  It  was  a  bare-handed 
fight  with  the  wolf  in  those  days.  I'm  sure  I  made  her 
understand  that,"  she  said. 

"Well,  I'll  undertake  to  make  her  understand  this,"  he 
said.  "Are  you  sure  that  Jennie  Weeks  is  taking  good 
care  of  you?" 

"Jennie  is  well  enough  and  is  growing  better  each 
day,  now  be  off  to  your  courting,  but  if  you  love  me, 
remember,  and  be  careful,"  she  said. 

"Remember — one  particular  thing — you  mean?"  he 
asked. 

She  nodded,  her  lips  closed. 

"You  bet  I  will!"  he  said.  "All  there  is  of  me  goes  into 
this.     Isn't  she  a  wonder,  Mother?" 

Mrs.  Jardine  looked  closely  at  the  big  man  who  was  all 
the  world  to  her,  so  like  her  in  mentality,  so  like  his  father 
with  his  dark  hair  and  eyes  and  big,  well-rounded  frame; 
looked  at  him  with  the  eyes  of  love,  then  as  he  left  her 
to  seek  the  girl  she  had  learned  to  love,  she  shut  her 
eyes  and  frankly  and  earnestly  asked  the  Lord  to  help  her 
son  to  marry  Kate  Bates. 

One  morning  as  Kate  helped  Mrs.  Jardine  into  her 
coat  and  gloves,  preparing  for   one    of  their    delightful 


JOHN  JARDINE'S  COURTSHIP  165 

morning  drives,  she  said  to  her:  "Mrs.  Jardine,  may  I 
ask  you  a  real  question  ?" 

"Of  course  you  may,"  said  Mrs.  Jardine,  "and  I  shall 
give  you  a  'real*  answer  if  it  lies  in  my  power." 

"You'll  be  shocked,"  warned  Kate. 

"Shock  away,"  laughed  Mrs.  Jardine.  "By  now  I 
flatter  myself  that  I  am  so  accustomed  to  you  that  you 
will  have  to  try  yourself  to  shock  me." 

"It's  only  this,"  said  Kate:  "If  you  were  a  perfect 
stranger,  standing  back  and  looking  on,  not  acquainted 
with  any  of  the  parties,  merely  seeing  things  as  they 
happen  each  day,  would  it  be  your  honest  opinion — 
would  you  say  that  I  am  being  courted  ?" 

Mrs.  Jardine  laughed  until  she  was  weak.  When  she 
could  talk,  she  said:  "Yes,  my  dear,  under  the  condi- 
tions, and  in  the  circumstances  you  mention,  I  would 
cheerfully  go  on  oath  and  testify  that  you  are  being 
courted  more  openly,  more  vigorously,  and  as  tenderly 
as  I  ever  have  seen  woman  courted  in  all  my  life.  I 
always  thought  that  John's  father  was  a  master  hand 
at  courting,  but  John  has  him  beaten  in  many  ways. 
Yes,  my  dear,  you  certainly  are  being  courted  assid- 
uously." 

"Now,  then,  on  that  basis,"  said  Kate,  "just  one  more 
question  and  we'll  proceed  with  our  drive.  From  the 
same  standpoint:  would  you  say  from  your  observation 
and  experience  that  the  mother  of  the  man  had  any  in- 
surmountable objection  to  the  proceedings?" 

Mrs.  Jardine  laughed  again.     Finally  she  said:  "No, 


166  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

my  dear.  It's  my  firm  conviction  that  the  mother  of 
the  man  in  the  case  would  be  so  delighted  if  you  should 
love  and  marry  her  son  that  she  would  probably  have 
a  final  attack  of  heart  trouble  and  pass  away  from 
sheer  joy." 

"Thank  you,"  said  Kate.  "I  wasn't  perfectly  sure, 
having  had  no  experience  whatever,  and  I  didn't  want 
to  make  a  mistake." 

That  drive  was  wonderful,  over  beautiful  country  roads, 
through  dells,  and  across  streams  and  hills.  They  stopped 
where  they  pleased,  gathering  flowers  and  early  apples, 
visiting  with  people  they  met,  lunching  wherever  they 
happened  to  be. 

"If  it  weren't  for  wishing  to  hear  John  A.  Logan  to- 
night," said  Kate,  "I'd  move  that  we  drive  on  all  day.  I 
certainly  am  having  the  grandest  time." 

She  sat  with  her  sailor  hat  filled  with  Early  Harvest 
apples,  a  big  bunch  of  Canadian  anemones  in  her  belt, 
a  little  stream  at  her  feet,  July  drowsy  fullness  all  around 
her,  congenial  companions;  taking  the  "wings  of  morning" 
paid,  after  all. 

"Why  do  you  want  to  hear  him  so  much?"  asked  John. 

Kate  looked  up  at  him  in  wonder. 

"  Don't  you  want  to  see  and  hear  him  ? "  she  asked. 

He  hesitated,  a  thoughtful  expression  on  his  face. 
Finally  he  said:  "I  can't  say  that  I  do.  Will  you  tell  me 
why  I  should  ? " 

"You  should  because  he  was  one  of  the  men  who  did 
much  to  preserve  our  Union,  he  may  tell  us  interest- 


i 


JOHN  JARDINE'S  COURTSHIP  167 

ing  things  about  the  war.  Where  were  you  when  it 
was  the  proper  time  for  you  to  be  studying  the  speech 
of  Logan's  ancestor  in  McGufFey's  Fourth?" 

"That  must  have  been  the  year  I  figured  out  the  im- 
proved coupling  pin  in  the  C.  N.  W.  shops,  wouldn't  you 
think,  Mother?" 

"Somewhere  near,  my  dear,"  she  said. 

So  they  drove  back  as  happily  as  they  had  set  out,  made 
themselves  fresh,  and  while  awaiting  the  lecture  hour, 
Kate  again  wrote  to  Robert  and  Nancy  Ellen,  telling 
plainly  and  simply  all  that  had  occurred.  She  even 
wrote  "John  Jardine's  mother  is  of  the  opinion  that  he  is 
courting  me.  I  am  so  lacking  in  experience  myself  that 
I  scarcely  dare  venture  an  opinion,  but  it  has  at  times 
appealed  to  me  that  if  he  isn't  really,  he  certainly  must 
be  going  through  the  motions." 

Nancy  Ellen  wrote: 

I  have  read  over  what  you  say  about  John  Jardine  several  times. 
Then  I  had  Robert  write  Bradstreet's  and  look  him  up.  He  is 
rated  so  high  that  if  he  hasn't  a  million  right  now,  he  soon  will 
have.  You  be  careful,  and  do  your  level  best.  Are  your  clothes 
good  enough?  Shall  I  send  more  of  my  things?  You  know  I'll 
do  anything  to  help  you.  Oh,  yes,  that  George  Holt  from  your 
boarding  place  was  here  the  other  day  hunting  you.  He  seemed 
determined  to  know  where  you  were  and  when  you  would  be  back, 
and  asked  for  your  address.  I  didn't  think  you  had  any  time 
for  him  and  I  couldn't  endure  him  or  his  foolish  talk  about  a  new 
medical  theory;  so  I  said  you'd  no  time  for  writing  and  were  going 
about  so  much  I  had  no  idea  if  you'd  get  a  letter  if  he  sent  one,  and 
1  didn't  give  him  what  he  wanted.    He'll  probably  try  general  delivery, 


168  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

but  you  can  drop  it  in  the  lake.  I  want  you  to  be  sure  to  change  youi 
boarding  place  this  winter,  if  you  teach;  but  I  haven't  an  idea  you 
will.  Hadn't  you  better  bring  matters  to  a  close  if  you  can,  and  let 
the  Director  know?    Love  from  us  both, 

Nancy  Ellen. 

Kate  sat  very  still,  holding  this  letter  in  her  hand, 
when  John  Jardine  came  up  and  sat  beside  her.  She 
looked  at  him  closely.  He  was  quite  as  good  looking  as 
his  mother  thought  him,  in  a  brawny  masculine  way; 
but  Kate  was  not  seeking  the  last  word  in  mental  or 
physical  refinement.  She  was  rather  brawny  herself,  and 
perfectly  aware  of  the  fact.  She  wanted  intensely  to 
learn  all  she  could,  she  disliked  the  idea  that  any  woman 
should  have  more  stored  in  her  head  than  she,  but  she 
had  no  time  to  study  minute  social  graces  and  customs. 
She  wanted  to  be  kind,  to  be  polite,  but  she  told  Mrs. 
Jardine  flatly  that  "she  didn't  give  a  flip  about  being 
overly  nice,"  which  was  the  exact  truth.  That  required 
subtleties  beyond  Kate's  depth,  for  she  was  at  times 
alarmingly  casual.  So  she  held  her  letter  and  thought 
about  John  Jardine.  As  she  thought,  she  decided  that 
she  did  not  know  whether  she  was  in  love  with  him  or 
not;  she  thought  she  was.  She  liked  being  with  him,  she 
liked  all  he  did  for  her,  she  would  miss  him  if  he  went 
away,  she  would  be  proud  to  be  his  wife,  but  she  did 
wish  that  he  were  interested  in  land,  instead  of  inventions 
and  stocks  and  bonds.  Stocks  and  bonds  were  almost  as 
evanescent  as  rainbows  to  Kate.  Land  was  something 
she  could   understand   and   handle.     Maybe  she  could 


JOHN  JARDINE'S  COURTSHIP  169 

interest  him  in  land;  if  she  could,  that  would  be  ideal. 
What  a  place  his  wealth  would  buy  and  fit  up.  She 
wondered  as  she  studied  John  Jardine,  what  was  in  his 
head;  if  he  truly  intended  to  ask  her  to  be  his  wife,  and 
since  reading  Nancy  Ellen's  letter,  when  ?  She  should  let 
the  Trustee  know  if  she  were  not  going  to  teach  the  school 
again;  but  someway,  she  rather  wanted  to  teach  the  school. 
When  she  started  anything  she  did  not  know  how  to  stop 
until  she  finished.  She  had  so  much  she  wanted  to  teach 
her  pupils  the  coming  winter. 

Suddenly  John  asked:  "Kate,  if  you  could  have 
anything  you  wanted,  what  would  you  have?" 

"Two  hundred  acres  of  land,"  she  said. 

"How  easy!"  laughed  John,  rising  to  find  a  seat  for  his 
mother  who  was  approaching  them.  "What  do  you 
think  of  that,  Mother?  A  girl  who  wants  two  hundred 
acres  of  land  more  than  anything  else  in  the  world." 

"What  is  better?"  asked  Mrs.  Jardine. 

"I  never  heard  you  say  anything  about  land  before." 

"Certainly  not,"  said  his  mother,  "and  I'm  not  saying 
anything  about  it  now,  for  myself;  but  I  can  see  why  it 
means  so  much  to  Kate,  why  it's  her  natural  element. 

"Well,  I  can't,"  he  said.  "I  meet  many  men  in  business 
who  started  on  land,  and  most  of  them  were  mighty 
glad  to  get  away  from  it.    What's  the  attraction?" 

Kate  waved  her  hand  toward  the  distance. 

"Oh,  merely  sky,  and  land,  and  water,  and  trees,  and 
birds,  and  flowers,  and  fruit,  and  crops,  and  a  few 
other    things    scarcely    worth    mentioning,"    she    said, 


i7o  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

lightly.  "I'm  not  in  the  mood  to  talk  bushels,  seed,  and 
fertilization  just  now;  but  I  understand  them,  they  are  in 
my  blood.  I  think  possibly  the  reason  I  want  two  hundred 
acres  of  land  for  myself  is  because  I've  been  hard  on  the 
job  of  getting  them  for  other  people  ever  since  I  began 
to  work,  at  about  the  age  of  four." 

"But  if  you  want  land  personally,  why  didn't  you  work 
to  get  it  for  yourself?"  asked  John  Jardine. 

"Because  I  happened  to  be  the  omega  of  my  father's 
system,"  answered  Kate. 

Mrs.  Jardine  looked  at  her  interestedly.  She  had 
never  mentioned  her  home  or  her  parents  before.  The 
older  woman  did  not  intend  to  ask  a  word,  but  if  Kate 
was  going  to  talk,  she  did  not  want  to  miss  one.  Kate 
evidently  was  going  to  talk,  for  she  continued:  "You  see 
my  father  is  land  mad,  and  son  crazy.  He  thinks  a  boy 
of  all  the  importance  in  the  world;  a  girl  of  none  whatever. 
He  has  the  biggest  family  of  any  one  we  know.  From 
birth  each  girl  is  worked  like  a  man,  or  a  slave,  from  four 
in  the  morning  until  nine  at  night.  Each  boy  is  worked 
exactly  the  same  way;  the  difference  lies  in- the  fact 
that  the  girls  get  plain  food  and  plainer  clothes  out 
of  it;  the  boys  each  get  two  hundred  acres  of  land,  build- 
ings and  stock,  that  the  girls  have  been  worked  to  the 
limit  to  help  pay  for;  they  get  nothing  personally,  worth 
mentioning.  I  think  I  have  two  hundred  acres  of  land 
on  the  brain,  and  I  think  this  is  the  explanation  of  it. 
It's  a  pre-natal  influence  at  our  house;  wjnle  we  nurse, 
eat,  sleep,  and  above  all,  work  it,  afterward." 


JOHN  JARDINE'S  COURTSHIP  171 

She  paused  and  looked  toward  John  Jardine  calmly: 
"I  think,"  she  said,  "that  there's  not  a  task  ever  per- 
formed on  a  farm  that  I  haven't  had  my  share  in.  I  have 
plowed,  hoed,  seeded,  driven  reapers  and  bound  wheat, 
pitched  hay  and  hauled  manure,  chopped  wood  and 
sheared  sheep,  and  boiled  sap;  if  you  can  mention  any- 
thing else,  go  ahead,  I  bet  a  dollar  I've  done  it." 

"Well,  what  do  you  think  of  that?"  he  muttered,  look- 
ing at  her  wonderingly. 

"If  you  ask  me,  and  want  the  answer  in  plain  words,  I 
think  it's  a  shame!"  said  Kate.  "If  it  were  one  hundred 
acres  of  land,  and  the  girls  had  as  much,  and  were  as  will- 
ing to  work  for  it  as  the  boys  are,  well  and  good.  But 
to  drive  us  like  cattle,  and  turn  all  we  earn  into  land  for 
the  boys,  is  another  matter.  I  rebelled  last  summer, 
borrowed  the  money  and  went  to  Normal  and  taught  last 
winter.  I'm  going  to  teach  again  this  winter;  but  last 
summer  and  this  are  the  first  of  my  life  that  I  haven't 
been  in  the  harvest  field,  at  this  time.  Women  in  the 
harvest  fields  of  Land  King  Bates  are  common  as  men, 
and  wagons,  and  horses,  but  not  nearly  so  much  con- 
sidered. The  women  always  walk  on  Sunday,  to  save 
the  horses,  and  often  on  week  days." 

"Mother  has  it  hammered  into  me  that  it  isn't  polite 
to  ask  questions,"  said  John,  "but  I'd  like  to  ask  one." 

"Go  ahead,"  said  Kate.     "Ask  fifty!   What  do  I  care?" 

"How  many  boys  are  there  in  your  family?" 

"There  are  seven,"  said  Kate,  "and  if  you  want  to 
use  them  as  a  basis  for  a  land  estimate  add  two  hundred 


172  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

and  fifty  for  the  home  place.  Sixteen  hundred  and  fifty 
is  what  Father  pays  tax  on,  besides  numerous  mortgages 
and  investments.  He's  the  richest  man  in  the  county  we 
live  in;  at  least  he  pays  the  most  taxes." 

Mother  and  son  looked  at  each  other  in  silence. 
They  had  been  thinking  her  so  poor  that  she  would  be  be- 
wildered by  what  they  had  to  offer.  But  if  two  hundred 
acres  of  land  were  her  desire,  there  was  a  possibility 
that  she  was  a  woman  who  was  not  asking  either  ease 
or  luxury  of  life,  and  would  refuse  it  if  it  were  proffered. 

"I  hope  you  will  take  me  home  with  you,  and  let  me 
see  all  that  land,  and  how  it  is  handled,"  said  John  Jar- 
dine.  "I  don't  own  an  acre.  I  never  even  have  thought 
of  it,  but  there  is  no  reason  why  I,  or  any  member  of  my 
family  shouldn't  have  all  the  land  they  want.  Mother, 
do  you  feel  a  wild  desire  for  two  hundred  acres  of  land  ? 
Same  kind  of  a  desire  that  took  you  to  come  here?" 

"No,  I  don't,"  said  Mrs.  Jardine.  "All  I  know  about 
land  is  that  I  know  it  when  I  see  it,  and  I  know  if  I  think 
it's  pretty;  but  I  can  see  why  Kate  feels  that  she  would 
like  that  amount  for  herself,  after  having  helped  earn 
all  those  farms  for  her  brothers.  If  it's  land  she  wants, 
I  hope  she  speedily  gets  all  she  desires  in  whatever  loca- 
tion she  wants  it;  and  then  I  hope  she  lets  me  come  to 
visit  her  and  watch  her  do  as  she  likes  with  it." 

"Surely,"  said  Kate  "you  are  invited  right  now;  as 
soon  as  ever  I  get  the  land,  I'll  give  you  another  invitation. 
And  of  course  you  may  go  home  with  me,  Mr.  Jardine, 
and  I'll  show  you  each  of  what  Father  calls  'those  little 


JOHN  JARDINE'S  COURTSHIP  173 

parcels  of  land  of  mine.'  But  the  one  he  lives  on  we  shall 
have  to  gaze  at  from  afar,  because  I'm  a  Prodigal  Daugh- 
ter. When  I  would  leave  home  in  spite  of  him  for  the 
gay  and  riotous  life  of  a  school-marm,  he  ordered  me  to 
take  all  my  possessions  with  me,  which  I  did  in  one  small 
telescope.  I  was  not  to  enter  his  house  again  while  he 
lived.  I  was  glad  to  go,  he  was  glad  to  have  me,  while  I 
don't  think  either  of  us  has  changed  our  mind  since. 
Teaching  school  isn't  exactly  gay,  but  I'll  fill  my  tummy 
with  quite  a  lot  of  symbolical  husks  before  he'll  kill  the 
fatted  calf  for  me.  They'll  be  glad  to  see  you  at  my 
brother  Adam's,  and  my  sister,  Nancy  Ellen,  would 
greatly  enjoy  meeting  you.  Surely  you  may  go  home 
with  me,  if  you'd  like." 

I  can  think  of  only  one  thing  I'd  like  better,"  he  said. 
"We've  been  such  good  friends  here  and  had  such  a  good 
time,  it  would  be  the  thing  I'd  like  best  to  take  you  home 
with  us,  and  show  you  where  and  how  we  live.  Mother, 
did  you  ever  invite  Kate  to  visit  us?" 

"I  have,  often,  and  she  has  said  that  she  would,"  re- 
plied Mrs.  Jardine.  "I  think  it  would  be  nice  for  her 
to  go  from  here  with  us;  and  then  you  can  take  her  home 
whenever  she  fails  to  find  us  interesting.  How  would 
that  suit  you  for  a  plan,  my  dear?" 

"I  think  that  would  be  a  perfect  ending  to  a  perfect 
summer,"  said  Kate.  "I  can't  see  an  obiection  in  any 
way.     Thank  you  very  much." 

"Then  we'll  calL  that  settled,"  said  John  Jardine. 


CHAPTER  XI 
A  Business  Proposition 

MID-AUGUST  saw  them  on  their  way  to  Chicago. 
Kate  had  taken  care  of  Mrs.  Jardine  a  few  days 
while  Jennie  Weeks  went  home  to  see  her  mother 
and  arrange  for  her  new  work.  She  had  no  intention  of 
going  back  to  school  teaching.  She  preferred  to  brush 
Mrs.  Jardine's  hair,  button  her  shoes,  write  her  letters, 
and  read  to  her. 

In  a  month,  Jennie  had  grown  so  deft  at  her  work  and 
made  herself  so  appreciated,  that  she  was  practically 
indispensable  to  the  elderly  woman,  and  therefore  the 
greatest  comfort  to  John.  Immediately  he  saw  that  his 
mother  was  properly  cared  for,  sympathetically  and  even 
lovingly,  he  made  it  his  business  to  smooth  Jennie's  path 
in  every  way  possible.  In  turn  she  studied  him,  and  in 
many  ways  made  herself  useful  to  him.  Often  she  looked 
long  at  him  with  large  and  speculative  eyes  as  he  sat 
reading  letters,  or  papers,  or  smoking. 

The  world  was  all  right  with  Kate  when  they  crossed 
the  sand  dunes  as  they  neared  the  city.  She  was  sorry 
about  the  situation  in  her  home,  but  she  smiled  sar- 
donically as  she  thought  how  soon  her  father  would 
forget  his  anger  when  he  heard  about  the  city  home  and 

i74 


A  BUSINESS  PROPOSITION  175 

the  kind  of  farm  she  could  have,  merely  by  consenting 
to  take  it.  She  was  that  sure  of  John  Jardine;  yet  he 
had  not  asked  her  to  marry  him.  He  had  seemed  on 
the  verge  of  it  a  dozen  times,  and  then  had  paused  as  if 
better  judgment  told  him  it  would  be  wise  to  wait  a  little 
longer.  Now  Kate  had  concluded  that  there  was  a  defi- 
nite thing  he  might  be  waiting  for,  since  that  talk  about 
land. 

She  thought  possibly  she  understood  what  it  was.  He 
was  a  business  man;  he  knew  nothing  else;  he  said  so 
frankly.  He  wanted  to  show  her  his  home,  his  business, 
his  city,  his  friends,  and  then  he  required — he  had  almost 
put  it  into  words — that  he  be  shown  her  home  and  her 
people.  Kate  not  only  acquiesced,  she  approved.  She 
wanted  to  know  as  much  of  a  man  she  married  as  Nancy 
Ellen  had  known,  and  Robert  had  taken  her  to  his  home 
and  told  his  people  she  was  his  betrothed  wife  before  he 
married  her. 

Kate's  eyes  were  wide  open  and  her  brain  busy,  as  they 
entered  a  finely  appointed  carriage  and  she  heard  John 
say:  "Rather  sultry.  Home  down  the  lake  shore, 
George."  She  wished  their  driver  had  not  been  named 
"George,"  but  after  all  it  made  no  difference.  There 
could  not  be  a  commoner  name  than  John,  and  she  knew 
of  but  one  that  she  liked  better.  For  the  ensuing  three 
days  she  lived  in  a  Lake  Shore  home  of  wealth.  She 
watched  closely  not  to  trip  in  the  heavy  rugs  and  carpets. 
She  looked  at  wonderful  paintings  and  long  shelves  of 
books.     She  never  had  touched  such  china,  or  tasted  such 


176  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

food  or  seen  so  good  service.  She  understood  why  John 
had  opposed  his  mother's  undertaking  the  trip  without 
him,  for  everyone  in  the  house  seemed  busy  serving  the 
little  woman. 

Jennie  Weeks  was  frankly  enchanted. 

"My  sakes!"  she  said  to  Kate.  "If  I'm  not  grateful  to 
you  for  getting  me  into  a  place  like  this.  I  wouldn't  give 
it  up  for  all  the  school-teaching  in  the  world.  I'm  going 
to  snuggle  right  in  here,  and  make  myself  so  useful  I  won't 
have  to  leave  until  I  die.  I  hope  you  won't  turn  me  out 
when  you  come  to  take  charge." 

"Don't  you  think  you're  presuming?"  said  Kate. 

Jennie  drew  back  with  a  swift  apology,  but  there  was  a 
flash  in  the  little  eyes  and  a  spiteful  look  on  the  small 
face  as  she  withdrew. 

Then  Kate  was  shown  each  of  John's  wonderful  inven- 
tions. To  her  they  seemed  almost  miracles,  because  they 
were  so  obvious,  so  simple,  yet  brought  such  astounding 
returns.  She  saw  offices  and  heard  the  explanation  of  big 
business;  but  did  not  comprehend,  farther  than  that 
when  an  invention  was  completed,  the  piling  up  of 
money  began.  Before  the  week's  visit  was  over,  Kate  was 
trying  to  fit  herself  and  her  aims  and  objects  of  life  into 
the  surroundings,  with  no  success  whatever.  She  felt 
housed  in,  cribbed,  confined,  frustrated.  When  she 
realized  that  she  was  becoming  plainly  cross,  she  began 
keen  self-analysis  and  soon  admitted  to  herself  that  she 
did  not  belong  there. 

Kate  watched  with  keen  eyes.     Repeatedly  she  tried 


A  BUSINESS  PROPOSITION  177 

to  imagine  herself  in  such  surroundings  for  life,  a  life  sen- 
tence, she  expressed  it,  for  soon  she  understood  that  it 
would  be  to  her,  a  prison.  The  only  way  she  could  im- 
agine herself  enduring  it  at  all  was  to  think  of  the  prom- 
ised farm,  and  when  she  began  to  think  of  that  on  Jardine 
terms,  she  saw  that  it  would  mean  to  sit  down  and  tell 
someone  else  what  she  wanted  done.  There  would  be 
no  battle  to  fight.  Her  mind  kept  harking  back  to  the 
day  when  she  had  said  to  John  that  she  hoped  there 
would  be  a  lake  on  the  land  she  owned,  and  he  had  an- 
swered casually:  "If  there  isn't  a  lake,  make  one!'* 
Kate  thought  that  over  repeatedly.  "Make  one!" 
Make  a  lake?  It  would  have  seemed  no  more  magical  to 
her  if  he  had  said,  "Make  a  cloud,"  "Make  a  star,"  or 
"Make  a  rainbow."  "What  on  earth  would  I  do  with  my- 
self, with  my  time,  with  my  life  ? "  pondered  Kate. 

She  said  "Good-bye"  to  Mrs.  Jardine  and  Jennie  Weeks, 
and  started  home  with  John,  still  pondering.  When  the 
train  pulled  into  Hartley,  Nancy  Ellen  and  Robert  were 
on  the  platform  to  meet  them.  From  that  time,  Kate 
was  on  solid  ground.  She  was  reckoning  in  terms  she 
could  comprehend.  All  her  former  assurance  and  energy 
came  back  to  her.  She  almost  wished  the  visit  were  over, 
and  that  she  were  on  the  way  to  Walton  to  clean  the 
school-house.  She  was  eager  to  roll  her  sleeves  and  beat 
a  tub  of  soapy  clothes  to  foam,  and  boil  them  snowy  white. 
She  had  a  desire  she  could  scarcely  control  to  sweep, 
and  dust,  and  cook.  She  had  been  out  of  the  environment 
she  thought  she  disliked  and  found  when  she  returned  to 


178  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

it  after  a  wider  change  than  she  could  have  imagined,  that 
she  did  not  dislike  it  at  all.  It  was  her  element,  her 
work,  what  she  knew.  She  could  attempt  it  with  sure 
foot,  capable  hand,  and  certain  knowledge. 

Sunday  morning  she  said  to  Nancy  Ellen  as  they 
washed  the  breakfast  dishes,  while  the  men  smoked  on  the 
veranda:  "Nancy  Ellen,  I  don't  believe  I  was  ever  cut 
out  for  a  rich  woman!  If  I  have  got  a  chance,  I  wish  you 
had  it,  and  I  had  this.    This  just  suits  my  style  to  a  T." 

"Tell  me  about  it,"  said  Nancy  Ellen. 

Kate  told  all  she  could  remember. 

"You  don't  mean  to  say  you  didn't  like  it?"  cried 
Nancy  Ellen. 

"I  didn't  say  anything,"  said  Kate,  "but  if  I  were 
saying  exactly  what  I  feel,  you'd  know  I  despise  it  all." 

"Why,  Kate  Bates!"  cried  the  horrified  Nancy  Ellen, 
"Whatever  do  you  mean?" 

"I  haven't  thought  enough  to  put  it  to  you  clearly," 
said  Kate,  "but  someway  the  city  repels  me.  Facilities 
for  manufacturing  something  start  a  city.  It  begins  with 
the  men  who  do  the  work,  and  the  men  who  profit  from 
that  work,  living  in  the  same  coop.  It  expands,  and 
goes  on,  and  grows,  on  that  basis.  It's  the  laborer, 
living  on  his  hire,  and  the  manufacturer  living  on  the 
laborer's  productions,  coming  in  daily  contact.  The  con- 
trast is  too  great,  the  space  is  too  small.  Somebody  is  go- 
ing to  get  the  life  crowded  out  of  him  at  every  turn,  and  it 
isn't  always  the  work  hand  in  the  factory.  The  money 
kings  eat  each  other  for  breakfast  every  day.     As  for  work, 


A  BUSINESS  PROPOSITION  179 

we  always  thought  we  worked.  You  should  take  a  peep 
into  the  shops  and  factories  I've  seen  this  week.  Work? 
Why,  we  don't  know  what  work  is,  and  we  waste  enough 
food  every  day  to  keep  a  workman's  family,  and  we're 
dressed  like  queens,  in  comparison  with  them  right  now." 

"Do  you  mean  to  say  if  he  asks  you ?"    It  was  a 

small  explosion. 

"I  mean  to  say  if  he  asks  me,  'buy  me  that  two  hundred 
acres  of  land  where  I  want  it,  build  me  the  house  and 
barns  I  want,  and  guarantee  that  I  may  live  there  as  I 

please,  and  I'll  marry  you  to-morrow.'    If  it's  Chicago 

Never!  I  haven't  stolen,  murdered,  or  betrayed,  why 
should  I  be  imprisoned?" 

"Why,  you  hopeless  anarchist!"  said  Nancy  Ellen. 
"I  am  going  to  tell  John  Jardine  on  you." 

"Do!"  urged  Kate.  "Sound  him  on  the  land  question. 
It's  our  only  hope  of  a  common  foundation.  Have  you 
sent  Agatha  word  that  we  will  be  out  this  afternoon?" 

"I  have,"  said  Nancy  Ellen.  "And  I  don't  doubt 
that  now,  even  now,  she  is  in  the  kitchen — how  would  she 
put  it  ? " 

"'Compounding  a  cake,'"  said  Kate,  "while  Adam  is 
in  the  cellar  'freezing  a  custard.'  Adam,  3d,  will  be 
raking  the  yard  afresh  and  Susan  will  be  sweeping  the 
walks  steadily  from  now  until  they  sight  us  coming  down 
the  road.  What  you  bet  Agatha  asks  John  his  intentions? 
I  almost  wish  she  would,"  she  added.  "He  has  some, 
but  there  is  a  string  to  them  in  some  way,  and  I  can't 
just  make  out  where,  or  why  it  is." 


i8o  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

"Not  even  a  guess?"  asked  Nancy  Ellen. 

"Not  even  a  guess,  with  any  sense  to  it.  I've  thought 
it  was  coming  repeatedly;  but  I've  got  a  stubborn  Bates 
streak,  and  I  won't  lift  a  finger  to  help  him.  He'll  speak 
up,  loud  and  plain,  or  there  will  be  no  *  connubial  bliss' 
for  us,  as  Agatha  says.  I  think  he  has  ideas  about  other 
things  than  freight  train  gear.  According  to  his  pro- 
gramme we  must  have  so  much  time  to  become  acquainted, 
I  must  see  his  home  and  people,  he  must  see  mine.  If 
there's  more  after  that,  I'm  not  informed.  Like  as  not 
there  is.  It  may  come  after  we  get  back  to-night,  I  can't 
say." 

"Have  you  told  him ?"  asked  Nancy  Ellen. 

"Not  the  details,  but  the  essentials.  He  knows  that  I 
can't  go  home.  It  came  up  one  day  in  talking  about  land. 
I  guess  they  had  thought  before,  that  my  people  were 
poor  as  church  mice.  I  happened  to  mention  how  much 
land  I  had  helped  earn  for  my  brothers,  and  they 
seemed  so  interested  I  finished  the  job.  Well,  after 
they  heard  about  the  Land  King,  it  made  a  noticeable 
difference  in  their  treatment  of  me.  Not  that  they  weren't 
always  fine,  but  it  made,  I  scarcely  know  how  to  put  it, 
it  was  so  intangible — but  it  was  a  difference,  an  added 
respect.  You  bet  money  is  a  power!  I  can  see  why  Father 
hangs  on  to  those  deeds,  when  I  get  out  in  the  world. 
They  are  his  compensation  for  his  years  of  hard  work,  the 
material  evidence  that  he  has  succeeded  in  what  he  under- 
took. He'd  show  them  to  John  Jardine  with  the  same 
feeling  John  showed  me  improved  car  couplers,  brakes* 


A  BUSINESS  PROPOSITION  181 

and  air  cushions.  They  stand  for  successes  that  win  the 
deference  of  men.  Out  in  the  little  bit  of  world  IVe  seen, 
I  notice  that  men  fight,  bleed,  and  die  for  even  a  tiny 
fraction  of  deference.  Aren't  they  funny?  What  would 
I  care ?" 

"Well,  I'd  care  a  lot!"  said  Nancy  Ellen. 

Kate  surveyed  her  slowly.     "Yes,  I  guess  you  would." 

They  finished  the  dishes  and  went  to  church,  because 
Robert  was  accustomed  to  going.  They  made  a  remark- 
able group.  Then  they  went  to  the  hotel  for  dinner,  so 
that  the  girls  would  not  have  to  prepare  it,  and  then  in  a 
double  carriage  Robert  had  secured  for  the  occasion, 
they  drove  to  Bates  Corners  and  as  Kate  said,  "Viewed 
the  landscape  o'er."  Those  eight  pieces  of  land,  none 
under  two  hundred  acres,  some  slightly  over,  all  in  the 
very  highest  state  of  cultivation,  with  modern  houses, 
barns,  outbuildings,  and  fine  stock  grazing  in  the  pastures, 
made  an  impressive  picture.  It  was  probably  the  first 
time  that  any  of  the  Bates  girls  had  seen  it  all  at  once, 
and  looked  on  it  merely  as  a  spectacle.  They  stopped 
at  Adam's  last,  and  while  Robert  was  busy  with  the 
team  and  John  had  alighted  to  help  him,  Nancy  Ellen, 
revealing  tight  lips  and  unnaturally  red  cheeks,  leaned  back 
to  Kate. 

"This  is  about  as  mean  a  trick,  and  as  big  a  shame  as 
I've  ever  seen,"  she  said,  hotly.  "You  know  I  was  brought 
up  with  this,  and  I  never  looked  at  it  with  the  eyes  of  a 
stranger  before.  If  ever  I  get  my  fingers  on  those  deeds 
I'll  make  short  work  of  them!" 


182  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

"And  a  good  job,  too!"  assented  Kate,  instantly. 
"Lookout!     There  comes  Adam." 

"I'd  just  as  soon  tell  him  so  as  not!"  whispered  Nancy- 
Ellen. 

"Which  would  result  in  the  deeds  being  recorded  to- 
morrow and  spoiling  our  trip  to-day,  and  what  good 
would  it  do  you?"  said  Kate. 

"None,  of  course!  Nothing  ever  does  a  Bates  girl  any 
good,  unless  she  gets  out  and  does  it  for  herself,"  retorted 
Nancy  Ellen  spitefully. 

"There,  there,"  said  Robert  as  he  came  to  help  Nancy 
Ellen  protect  her  skirts  in  alighting.  "I  was  afraid  this 
trip  would  breed  discontent." 

"What's  the  trouble?"  asked  John,  as  he  performed  the 
same  service  for  Kate. 

"Oh,  the  girls  are  grouching  a  little  because  they  helped 
earn  all  this,  and  are  to  be  left  out  of  it,"  explained 
Robert  in  a  low  voice. 

"Let's  get  each  one  of  them  a  farm  that  will  lay  any 
of  these  completely  in  the  shade,"  suggested  John. 

"All  right  for  you,  if  you  can  do  it,"  said  Robert, 
laughing,  "but  I've  gone  my  limit  for  the  present.  Be- 
sides, if  you  gave  each  of  them  two  hundred  acres  of  the 
Kingdom  of  Heaven,  it  wouldn't  stop  them  from  feeling 
that  they  had  been  defrauded  of  their  birthright  here." 

"How  would  you  feel  if  you  was  served  the  same 
way?"  asked  John,  and  even  as  she  shook  hands  with 
Adam,  and  introduced  John  Jardine,  Kate  found  herself 
wishing  that  he  had  said  "were." 


A  BUSINESS  PROPOSITION  183 

As  the  girls  had  predicted,  the  place  was  immaculate, 
the  yard  shady  and  cool  from  the  shelter  of  many  big  trees, 
the  house  comfortable,  convenient,  the  best  of  everything 
in  sight.  Agatha  and  Susan  were  in  new  white  dresses, 
while  Adam  Jr.  and  3d  wore  tan  and  white  striped  seer- 
sucker coats,  and  white  duck  trousers.  It  was  not  dif- 
ficult to  feel  a  glow  of  pride  in  the  place  and  people. 
Adam  made  them  cordially  welcome. 

"You  undoubtedly  are  blessed  with  good  fortune,"  said 
Agatha.  "Won't  you  please  enlighten  us  concerning  your 
travels,  Katherine?" 

So  Kate  told  them  everything  she  could  think  of  that 
she  thought  would  interest  and  amuse  them,  even  out- 
lining for  Agatha  speeches  she  had  heard  made  by  Dr. 
Vincent,  Chaplain  McCabe,  Jehu  DeWitt  Miller,  a 
number  of  famous  politicians,  teachers,  and  ministers. 
Then  all  of  them  talked  about  everything.  Adam 
took  John  and  Robert  to  look  over  the  farm,  whereupon 
Kate  handed  over  her  hat  for  Agatha  to  finger  and  try 
on. 

"And  how  long  will  it  be,  my  dear,"  said  Agatha  to 
Kate,  "before  you  enter  connubial  bliss?" 

"My  goodness!  I'm  glad  you  asked  me  that  while  the 
men  are  at  the  barn,"  said  Kate.  "Mr.  Jardine  hasn't 
said  a  word  about  it  himself,  so  please  be  careful  what 
you  say  before  him." 

Agatha  looked  at  Kate  in  wonder. 

"You  amaze  me,"  she  said.  "Why,  he  regards  you  as 
if  he  would  devour  you.     He  hasn't  proposed  for  your 


1 84  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

hand,  you  say?  Surely  you're  not  giving  him  proper 
encouragement ! " 

"She  isn't  giving  him  any,  further  than  allowing  him  to 
be  around,"  said  Nancy  Ellen. 

"Do  enlighten  me!"  cried  the  surprised  Agatha. 
"How  astounding!  Why,  Kate,  my  dear,  there  is  a  just 
and  proper  amount  of  encouragement  that  must  be  given 
any  self-respecting  youth,  before  he  makes  his  declara- 
tions.    You  surely  know  that." 

"No,  I  do  not  know  it!"  said  Kate.  "I  thought  it  was 
a  man's  place  to  speak  up  loud  and  plain  and  say  what 
he  had  to  propose." 

"Oh,  dear!"  wailed  Agatha,  wringing  her  thin  hands, 
her  face  a  mirror  of  distress.  "Oh,  dear,  I  very  much  fear 
you  will  lose  him.  Why,  Katherine,  after  a  man  has  been 
to  see  you  a  certain  number  of  times,  and  evidenced 
enough  interest  in  you,  my  dear,  there  are  a  thousand 
strictly  womanly  ways  in  which  you  can  lend  his  enter- 
prise a  little,  only  a  faint  amount  of  encouragement,  just 
enough  to  allow  him  to  recognize  that  he  is  not — not — er 
— repulsive  to  you." 

"But  how  many  times  must  he  come,  and  how  much 
interest  must  he  evince?"  asked  Kate. 

"I  can  scarcely  name  an  exact  number,"  said  Agatha. 
"That  is  personal.  You  must  decide  for  yourself  what  is 
the  psychological  moment  at  which  he  is  to  be  taken. 
Have  you  even  signified  to  him  that  you — that  you — that 
you  could  be  induced,  even  to  contemplate  marriage?" 

"Oh,   yes,"   said   Kate,  heartily.     "I  told  his  mother 


A  BUSINESS  PROPOSITION  185 

that  it  was  the  height  of  my  ambition  to  marry  by  the  time 
I'm  twenty.  I  told  her  I  wanted  a  man  as  tall  as  I  am, 
two  hundred  acres  of  land,  and  at  least  twelve  babies." 

Agatha  collapsed  suddenly.  She  turned  her  shocked 
face  toward  Nancy  Ellen. 

"Great  Day  of  Rest!"  she  cried.  "No  wonder  the 
man  doesn't  propose!" 

When  the  men  returned  from  their  stroll,  Agatha  and 
Susan  served  them  with  delicious  frozen  custard  and 
Angel's  food  cake.  Then  they  resumed  their  drive,  pass- 
ing Hiram's  place  last.  At  the  corner  Robert  hesitated 
and  then  turned  to  ask:     "Shall  we  go  ahead,  Kate?" 

"Certainly,"  said  Kate.  "I  want  Mr.  Jardine  to  see 
where  I  was  born  and  spent  my  time  of  legal  servitude. 
I  suppose  we  daren't  stop.  I  doubt  if  Mother  would 
want  to  see  me,  and  I  haven't  the  slightest  doubt  that 
Father  would  not;  but  he  has  no  jurisdiction  over  the 
road.  It's  the  shortest  way — and  besides,  I  want  to  see 
the  lilac  bush  and  the  cabbage  roses." 

As  they  approached  the  place  Nancy  Ellen  turned. 

"Father's  standing  at  the  gate.     What  shall  we  do?" 

"There's  nothing  you  can  do,  but  to  drive  straight 
ahead  and  you  and  Robert  speak  to  him,"  said  Kate. 
"Go  fast,  Robert." 

He  touched  the  team  and  at  fair  speed  they  whirled 
past  the  white  house,  at  the  gate  of  which,  stiffly  erect, 
stood  a  brawny  man  of  six  feet  six,  his  face  ruddy  and 
healthy  in  appearance.  He  was  dressed  as  he  prepared 
himself  to  take  a  trip  to  pay  his  taxes,  or  to  go  to 


1 86  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

Court.  He  stood  squarely  ecect,  with  stern,  forbidding 
face,  looking  directly  at  them.  Robert  spoke  to  him, 
and  Nancy  Ellen  leaned  forward  and  waved,  calling 
"Father,"  that  she  might  be  sure  he  knew  her,  but  he 
gave  not  the  slightest  sign  of  recognition.  They  carried 
away  a  distinct  picture  of  him,  at  his  best  physically 
and  in  appearance;  at  his  worst  mentally. 

"There  you  have  it!"  said  Kate,  bitterly.  "I'd  be 
safe  in  wagering  a  thousand  dollars,  if  I  had  it,  that 
Agatha  or  the  children  told,  at  Hiram's  or  to  Mother's 
girl,  that  we  were  coming.  They  knew  we  would  pass 
about  this  time.  Mother  was  at  the  side  door  watch- 
ing, and  Father  was  in  his  Sunday  best,  waiting  to 
show  us  what  would  happen  if  we  stopped,  and  that  he 
never  changes  his  mind.  It  didn't  happen  by  acci- 
dent that  he  was  standing  there  dressed  that  way. 
What  do  you  think,  Nancy  Ellen?" 

"That  he  was  watching  for  us!"  said  Nancy  Ellen. 

"But  why  do  you  suppose  that  he  did  it?"  asked 
Kate. 

"He  thought  that  if  he  were  not  standing  guard  there, 
we  might  stop  in  the  road  and  at  least  call  Mother  out. 
He  wanted  to  be  seen,  and  seen  at  his  best;  but  as 
always,  in  command,  showing  his  authority." 

"Don't  mind,"  said  John  Jardine.  "It's  easy  to 
understand  the  situation."  . 

"Thank  you,"  said  Kate.  "I  hope  you'll  tell  your 
mother  that.  I  can't  bear  her  to  think  that  the  trouble 
is  wholly  my  fault." 


A  BUSINESS  PROPOSITION  187 

"No  danger  of  that,"  he  said.  "Mother  thinks  there's 
nobody  in  all  the  world  like  you,  and  so  do  I." 

Nancy  Ellen  kicked  Robert's  shin,  to  let  him  know 
that  she  heard.  Kate  was  very  depressed  for  a  time,  but 
she  soon  recovered  and  they  spent  a  final  happy  evening 
together.  When  John  had  parted  from  Robert  and 
Nancy  Ellen,  with  the  arrangement  that  he  was  to  come 
again  the  following  Saturday  evening  and  spend  Sunday 
with  them,  he  asked  Kate  to  walk  a  short  distance  with 
him.  He  seemed  to  be  debating  some  proposition  in  his 
mind,  that  he  did  not  know  how  to  approach.  Finally  he 
stopped  abruptly  and  said:  "Kate,  Mother  told  me  that 
she  told  you  how  I  grew  up.  We  have  been  together  most 
of  every  day  for  six  weeks.  I  have  no  idea  how  a  man 
used  to  women  goes  at  what  I  want,  so  I  can  only  do 
what  I  think  is  right,  and*  best,  and  above  all  honest,  and 
fair.  I'd  be  the  happiest  I've  ever  been,  to  do  anything 
on  earth  I've  got  the  money  to  do,  for  you.  There's  a 
question  I'm  going  to  ask  you  the  next  time  I  come.  You 
can  think  over  all  you  know  of  me,  and  of  Mother,  and  of 
what  we  have,  and  are,  and  be  ready  to  tell  me  how  you 
feel  about  everything  next  Sunday.  There's  one  question 
I  want  to  ask  you  before  I  go.  In  case  we  can  plan 
for  a  life  together  next  Sunday,  what  about  my  mother?" 

"Whatever  pleases  her  best,  of  course,"  said  Kate. 
"Any  arrangement  that  you  feel  will  make  her  happy,  will 
be  all  right  with  me;  in  the  event  we  agree  on  other 
things." 

He  laughed,  shortly. 


1 88  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

"This  sounds  cold-blooded  and  business-like,"  he  said. 
"But  Mother's  been  all  the  world  to  me,  until  I  met 
you.  I  must  be  sure  about  her,  and  one  other  thing. 
I'll  write  you  about  that  this  week.  If  that  is  all  right 
with  you,  you  can  get  ready  for  a  deluge.  I've  held  in  as 
long  as  I  can.     Kate,  will  you  kiss  me  good-bye?" 

"That's  against  the  rules,"  said  Kate.  "That's  getting 
the  cart  before  the  horse." 

"I  know  it,"  he  said.  "But  haven't  I  been  an  example 
for  six  weeks?     Only  one.     Please?" 

They  were  back  at  Dr.  Gray's  gate,  standing  in  the 
deep  shelter  of  a  big  maple.  Kate  said:  "I'll  make  a 
bargain  with  you.  I'll  kiss  you  to-night,  and  if  we  come 
to  an  agreement  next  Sunday  night,  you  shall  kiss  me. 
Is  that  all  right?" 

The  reply  was  so  indistinct  Kate  was  not  sure  of  it;  but 
she  took  his  face  between  her  hands  and  gave  him  exactly 
the  same  kind  of  kiss  she  would  have  given  Adam, 
3d.  She  hesitated  an  instant,  then  giving  him  a  second: 
"You  may  take  that  to  your  mother,"  she  said,  and  fled 
up  the  walk. 


CHAPTER  XII 
Two  Letters 

NANCY  ELLEN  and  Robert  were  sitting  on  the 
side  porch,  not  seeming  in  the  least  sleepy,  when 
Kate  entered  the  house.     As  she  stepped  out  to 
them,  she  found  them  laughing  mysteriously. 

"Take  this  chair,  Kate,"  said  Nancy  Ellen.  "Come 
on,  Robert,  let's  go  stand  under  the  maple  and  let  her  see 
whether  she  can  see  us."  , 

"If  you're  going  to  rehearse  any  momentous  moment 
of  your  existence,"  said  Kate,  "I  shouldn't  think  of  even 
being  on  the  porch.  I  shall  keep  discreetly  in  the  house, 
even  going  at  once  to  bed.  Good-night!  Pleasant 
dreams!" 

"Now  we've  made  her  angry,"  said  Robert. 

"I  think  there  was  *a  little  touch  of  asperity,'  as  Agatha 
would  say,  in  that,"  said  Nancy  Ellen,  "but  Kate  has  a 
good  heart.     She'll  get  over  it  before  morning." 

"Would  Agatha  use  such  a  common  word  as  'little'?" 
asked  Robert. 

"Indeed,  no!"  said  Nancy  Ellen.  "She  would  say 
'infinitesimal.'     But  all  the  same  he  kissed  her." 

"If  she  didn't  step  up  and  kiss  him,  never  again  shall  I 
trust  my  eyes!"  said  the  doctor. 

189 


i9o  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

"Hush!"  cautioned  Nancy  Ellen.  "She's  provoked 
now;  if  she  hears  that,  she'll  never  forgive  us." 

Kate  did  not  need  even  a  hint  to  start  her  talking  in 
the  morning.  The  day  was  fine,  a  snappy  tinge  of  autumn 
in  the  air,  her  head  and  heart  were  full.  Nancy  Ellen 
would  understand  and  sympathize;  of  course  Kate  told 
her  all  there  was  to  tell. 

"And  even  at  that,"  said  Nancy  Ellen,  "he  hasn't 
just  come  out  right  square  and  said  'Kate,  will  you  marry 
me?'  as  I  understand  it." 

"Same  here,"  laughed  Kate.  "He  said  he  had  to  be 
sure  about  his  mother,  and  there  was  'one  other  thing* 
he'd  write  me  about  this  week,  and  he'd  come  again 
next  Sunday;  then  if  things  were  all  right  with  me — 
the  deluge!" 

"And  what  is  'the  other  thing?'"  asked  Nancy  Ellen. 

"There  he  has  me  guessing.  We  had  six  long,  lovely 
weeks  of  daily  association  at  the  lake,  I've  seen  his  home, 
and  his  inventions,  and  as  much  of  his  business  as  is 
visible  to  the  eye  of  a  woman  who  doesn't  know  a  tinker 
about  business.  His  mother  has  told  me  minutely  of  his 
life,  every  day  since  he  was  born,  I  think.  She  insists 
that  he  never  paid  the  slightest  attention  to  a  girl  before, 
and  he  says  the  same,  so  there  can't  be  any  hidden  ugly 
feature  to  mar  my  joy.  He  is  thoughtful,  quick,  kind, 
a  self-made  business  man.  He  looks  well  enough,  he 
acts  like  a  gentleman,  he  seldom  makes  a  mistake  in 
speech " 

"He   doesn't    sa}?-   enough    to   make  any  mistakes.     I 


TWO  LETTERS  191 

haven't  yet  heard  him  talk  freely,  give  an  opinion,  or  dis- 
cuss a  question,"  said  Nancy  Ellen. 

"Neither  have  I,"  said  Kate.  "He's  very  silent, 
thinking  out  more  inventions,  maybe.  The  worst  thing 
about  him  is  a  kind  of  hard-headed  self-assurance.  He 
got  it  fighting  for  his  mother  from  boyhood.  He  knew 
she  would  freeze  and  starve  if  he  didn't  take  care  of  her; 
he  had  to  do  it.  He  soon  found  he  could.  It  took  money 
to  do  what  he  had  to  do.  He  got  the  money.  Then 
he  began  performing  miracles  with  it.  He  lifted  his 
mother  out  of  poverty,  he  dressed  her  'in  purple  and  fine 
linen,'  he  housed  her  in  the  same  kind  of  home  other 
rich  men  of  the  Lake  Shore  Drive  live  in,  and  gave  her 
the  same  kind  of  service.  As  most  men  do,  when  things 
begin  to  come  their  way,  he  lived  for  making  money 
alone.  He  was  so  keen  on  the  chase  he  wouldn't  stop  to 
educate  and  culture  himself;  he  drove  headlong  on,  and 
on,  piling  up  more,  far  more  than  any  one  man  should  be 
allowed  to  have;  so  you  can  see  that  it  isn't  strange  that 
he  thinks  there's  nothing  on  earth  that  money  can't 
do.  You  can  see  that  sticking  out  all  over  him.  At  the 
hotel,  on  boats,  on  the  trains,  anywhere  we  went,  he  pushed 
straight  for  the  most  conspicuous  place,  the  most 
desirable  thing,  the  most  expensive.  I  almost  prayed 
sometimes  that  in  some  way  he  would  strike  one  single 
thing  that  he  couldn't  make  come  his  way  with  money; 
but  he  never  did.  No.  I  haven't  an  idea  what  he  has 
in  his  mind  yet,  but  he's  going  to  write  me  about  it  this 
week,   and  if  I   agree  to  whatever  it  is,  he  is  coming 


192  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  J,AND 

Sunday;  then  he  has   threatened   me  with   a  *  deluge,' 

whatever  he  means  by  that." 

"He  means  providing  another  teacher  for  Walden, 
taking  you  to  Chicago  shopping  for  a  wonderful  trousseau, 
marrying  you  in  his  Lake  Shore  palace,  no  doubt." 

"Well,  if  that's  what  he  means  by  a  'deluge,'"  said 
Kate,  "he'll  find  the  flood  coming  his  way.  He'll  strike 
the  first  thing  he  can't  do  with  money.  I  shall  teach  my 
school  this  winter  as  I  agreed  to.  I  shall  marry  him  in 
the  clothes  I  buy  with  what  I  earn.  I  shall  marry  him 
quietly,  here,  or  at  Adam's,  or  before  a  Justice  of  the 
Peace,  if  neither  of  you  wants  me.  He  can't  pick  me  up, 
and  carry  me  away,  and  dress  me,  and  marry  me,  as  if  I 
were  a  pauper. " 

"You're  right  about  it,"  said  Nancy  Ellen.  "I  don't 
know  how  we  came  to  be  so  different.  I  should  do  at 
once  any  way  he  suggested  to  get  such  a  fine-looking 
man  and  that  much  money.  That  it  would  be  a  humilia- 
tion to  me  all  my  after  life,  I  wouldn't  think  about  until 
the  humiliation  began,  and  then  I'd  have  no  way  to 
protect  myself.  You're  right!  But  I'd  get  out  of  teach- 
ing this  winter  if  I  could.    I'd  love  to  have  you  here." 

"But  I  must  teach  to  earn  the  money  for  my  outfit. 
I'll  have  to  go  back  to  school  in  the  same  old  sailor." 

"Don't  you  care,"  laughed  Nancy  Ellen.  "We  know 
a  secret!" 

"That  we  do!"  agreed  Kate. 

Wednesday  Kate  noticed  Nancy  Ellen  watching  for  the 
boy  Robert  had  promised  to  send  with  the  mail  as  soon  as 


TWO  LETTERS  193 

it  was  distributed,  because  she  was,  herself.  Twice  Thurs- 
day, Kate  hoped  in  vain  that  the  suspense  would  be  over. 
It  had  to  end  Friday,  if  John  were  coming  Saturday  night. 
She  began  to  resent  the  length  of  time  he  was  waiting. 
It  was  like  him  to  wait  until  the  last  minute,  and  then 
depend  on  money  to  carry  him  through. 

"He  is  giving  me  a  long  time  to  think  things  over," 
Kate  said  to  Nancy  Ellen  when  there  was  no  letter  in 
the  afternoon  mail  Thursday. 

"It  may  have  been  lost  or  delayed, "  said  Nancy 
Ellen.     "It  will  come  to-morrow,  surely." 

Both  of  them  saw  the  boy  turn  in  at  the  gate  Fri- 
day morning.  Each  saw  that  he  carried  more  than 
one  letter.  Nancy  Ellen  was  on  her  feet  and  nearer  to 
the  door;  she  stepped  to  it,  and  took  the  letters,  giving 
them  a  hasty  glance  as  she  handed  them  to  Kate. 

"Two,"  she  said  tersely.  "One,  with  the  address 
written  in  the  clear,  bold  hand  of  a  gentleman,  and  one, 
the  straggle  of  a  country  clod-hopper." 

Kate  smiled  as  she  took  the  letters:  "I'll  wager  my 
hat,  which  is  my  most  precious  possession,"  she  said, 
"that  the  one  with  the  beautifully  written  address  comes 
from  the  'clod-hopper,'  and  the  'straggle*  from  the 
'gentleman.'" 

She  glanced  at  the  stamping  and  addresses  and  smiled 
again:  "So  it  proves,"  she  said.  "While  I'm  about  it, 
I'll  see  what  the  'clod-hopper'  has  to  say,  and  then  I  shall 
be  free  to  give  my  whole  attention  to  the  'gentleman.''1 

"Oh,  Kate,  how  can  you!"  cried  Nancy  Ellen. 


i94  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

"Way  I'm  made,  I  'spect,"  said  Kate.  "Anyway, 
that's  the  way  this  is  going  to  be  done." 

She  dropped  the  big  square  letter  in  her  lap  and  ran 
her  finger  under  the  flap  of  the  long,  thin,  beautifully 
addressed  envelope,  and  drew  forth  several  quite  as  per- 
fectly written  sheets.  She  read  them  slowly  and  delib- 
erately, sometimes  turning  back  a  page  and  going  over 
a  part  of  it  again.  When  she  finished,  she  glanced  at 
Nancy  Ellen  while  slowly  folding  the  sheets.  "Just  for 
half  a  cent  I'd  ask  you  to  read  this,"  she  said. 

"I  certainly  shan't  pay  anything  for  the  privilege,  but 
I'll  read  it,  if  you  want  me  to,"  offered  Nancy  Ellen. 

"All  right,  go  ahead,"  said  Kate.  "It  might  pos- 
sibly teach  you  that  you  can't  always  judge  a  man  by 
appearance,  or  hastily;  though  just  why  George  Holt 
looks  more  like  a  'clod-hopper'  than  Adam,  or  Hiram,  or 
Andrew,  it  passes  me  to  tell." 

She  handed  Nancy  Ellen  the  letter  and  slowly  ripped 
open  the  flap  of  the  heavy  white  envelope.  She  drew 
forth  the  sheet  and  sat  an  instant  with  it  in  her  fingers, 
watching  the  expression  of  Nancy  Ellen's  face,  while 
she  read  the  most  restrained  yet  impassioned  plea  that  a 
man  of  George  Holt's  nature  and  opportunities  could 
devise  to  make  to  a  woman  after  having  spent  several 
months  in  the  construction  of  it.  It  was  a  masterly 
letter,  perfectly  composed,  spelled,  and  written;  for  among 
his  other  fields  of  endeavour,  George  Holt  had  taught 
several  terms  of  country  school,  and  taught  them  with 
much  success;  so  that  he  might  have  become  a  fine  in- 


TWO  LETTERS  195 

structor,  had  it  been  in  his  blood  to  stick  to  anything 
long  enough  to  make  it  succeed.  After  a  page  as  she 
turned  the  second  sheet  Nancy  Ellen  glanced  at  Kate, 
and  saw  that  she  had  not  opened  the  creased  page  in  her 
hands.     She  flamed  with  sudden  irritation. 

"You  do  beat  the  band!"  she  cried.  "You've  watched 
for  two  days  and  been  provoked  because  that  letter 
didn't  come.  Now  you've  got  it,  there  you  sit  like  a 
mummy  and  let  your  mind  be  so  filled  with  this  idiotic 
drivel  that  you're  not  even  reading  John  Jardine's  letter 
that  is  to  tell  you  what  both  of  us  are  crazy  to  know." 

"If  you  were  in  any  mood  to  be  fair  and  honest,  you'd 
admit  that  you  never  read  a  finer  letter  than  that,"  said 
Kate.  "As  for  this,  I  never  was  so  afraid  in  all  my  life. 
Look  at  that!" 

She  threw  the  envelope  in  Nancy  Ellen's  lap. 

"That  is  the  very  first  line  of  John  Jardine's  writing  I 
have  ever  seen,"  she  said.  "Do  you  see  anything  about 
it  to  encourage  me  to  go  farther?" 

"You  goose!"  cried  the  exasperated  Nancy  Ellen.  "I 
suppose  he  transacts  so  much  business  he  scarcely  ever 
puts  pen  to  paper.  What's  the  difference  how  he  writes? 
Look  at  what  he  is  and  what  he  does!  Go  on  and  read 
his  letter." 

Kate  arose  and  walked  to  the  window,  turning  her 
back  to  Nancy  Ellen,  who  sat  staring  at  her,  while  she 
read  John  Jardine's  letter.  Once  Nancy  Ellen  saw  Kate 
throw  up  her  head  and  twist  her  neck  as  if  she  were 
choking;  then  she  heard  a  great  gulping  sob  down  in  her 


196  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

throat;  finally  Kate  turned  and  stared  at  her  with  dazed, 
incredulous  eyes.  Slowly  she  dropped  the  letter,  de- 
liberately set  her  foot  on  it,  and  leaving  the  room, 
climbed  the  stairs.  Nancy  Ellen  threw  George  Holt's  let- 
ter aside  and  snatched  up  John  Jardine's.     She  read: 

My  Derest  Kate:  I  am  a  day  late  with  this  becos  as  I  told  you  I  have 
no  schooling  and  in  writing  a  letter  is  where  I  prove  it,  so  I  never  write 
them,  but  it  was  not  fare  to  you  for  you  not  to  know  what  kind  of  a  letter 
I  would  write  if  I  did  write  one,  so  here  it  is  very  bad  no  dout  but  the 
best  I  can  possably  do  which  has  got  nothing  at  all  to  dowithmypashion 
for  you  and  the  aughful  time  I  will  have  till  I  here  from  you.  If  you 
can  stand  for  this  telagraf  me  and  I  will  come  first  train  and  we  will 
forget  this  and  I  will  never  write  another  letter.  With  derest  love 
from  Mother,  and  from  me  all  the  love  of  my  hart.  Forever  yours 
only,  John  Jardine. 

The  writing  would  have  been  a  discredit  to  a  ten-year- 
old  schoolboy.  Nancy  Ellen  threw  the  letter  back  on  the 
floor;  with  a  stiffly  extended  finger,  she  poked  it  into  the 
position  in  which  she  thought  she  had  found  it,  and  slowly 
stepped  back. 

"Great  God!"  she  said  amazedly.  "What  does  the 
man  mean?  Where  does  that  dainty  and  wonderful 
little  mother  come  in?  She  must  be  a  regular  parasite, 
to  suck  ease  and  comfort  for  herself  out  of  him,  and  not 
see  that  he  had  time  and  chance  to  do  better  than  that 
for  himself.  Kate  will  never  endure  it,  never  in  the 
world !  And  by  the  luck  of  the  very  Devil,  there  comes 
that   school-proof  thing   in   the  same  mail,  from  that' 


TWO  LETTERS  197 

abominable  George  Holt,  and  Kate  reads  it  first.  It's  too 
bad!     I  can't  believe  it!    What  did  his  mother  mean?" 

Suddenly  Nancy  Ellen  began  to  cry  bitterly;  between 
sobs  she  could  hear  Kate  as  she  walked  from  closet  and 
bureau  to  her  trunk  which  she  was  packing.  The  lid 
slammed  heavily  and  a  few  minutes  later  Kate  entered 
the  room  dressed  for  the  street. 

"Why  are  you  weeping?"  she  asked  casually. 

Her  eyes  were  flaming,  her  cheeks  scarlet,  and  her  lips 
twitching.  Nancy  Ellen  sat  up  and  looked  at  her.  She 
pointed  to  the  letter:  "I  read  that,"  she  said. 

"Well,  what  do  I  care?"  said  Kate.  "If  he  has  no 
more  respect  for  me  than  to  write  me  such  an  insult  as 
that,  why  should  I  have  the  respect  for  him  to  protect 
him  in  it  ?     Publish  it  in  the  paper  if  you  want  to." 

"Kate,  what  are  you  going  to  do?"  demanded  Nancy 
Ellen. 

"Three  things,"  said  Kate,  slowly  putting  on  her  long 
silk  gloves.  "First,  I'm  going  to  telegraph  John  Jardine 
that  I  never  shall  see  him  again,  if  I  can  possibly  avoid 
it.  Second,  I'm  going  to  send  a  drayman  to  get  my  trunk 
and  take  it  to  Walden.  Third,  I'm  going  to  start  out  and 
walk  miles,  I  don't  know  or  care  where;  but  in  the  end, 
I'm  going  to  Walden  to  clean  the  schoolhouse  and  get 
ready  for  my  winter  term  of  school." 

"Oh,  Kate,  you  are  such  a  fine  teacher!  Teach  him! 
Don't  be  so  hurried!  Take  more  time  to  think.  You 
will  break  his  heart,"  pleaded  Nancy  Ellen. 

Kate  threw  out  both  hands,  palms  down. 


198  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

"P-a-s-h,  a-u-g-h,  h-a-r-t,  d-o-u-t,  d-e-r-e,"  she 
slowly  spelled  out  the  letters.  "What  about  my  heart 
and  my  pride?  Think  I  can  respect  that,  or  ask  my 
children  to  respect  it?  But  thank  you  and  Robert,  and 
come  after  me  as  often  as  you  can,  as  a  mercy  to  me.  If 
John  persists  in  coming,  to  try  to  buy  me,  as  he  thinks 
he  can  buy  anything  he  wants,  you  needn't  let  him 
come  to  Walden;  for  probably  I  won't  be  there  until  I 
have  to,  and  I  won't  see  him,  or  his  mother,  so  he 
needn't  try  to  bring  her  in.  Say  good-bye  to  Robert 
for  me." 

She  walked   from  the  house,    head    erect,    shoulders 
squared,  and  so  down  the  street  from  sight.     In  half  an 
hour  a  truckman  came  for  her  trunk,    so  Nancy  Ellen! 
made  everything  Kate  had  missed  into  a  bundle  to  send 
with  it.     When  she  came  to  the  letters,  she  hesitated. 

"I  guess  she  didn't  want  them,"  she  said.  "I'll  just 
keep  them  awhile  and  if  she  doesn't  ask  about  them,  the 
next  time  she  comes,  I'll  burn  them.  Robert  must  go 
after  her  every  Friday  evening,  and  we'll  keep  her  until 
Monday,  and  do  all  we  can  to  cheer  her;  and  this  very  day 
he  must  find  out  all  there  is  to  know  about  that  George 
Holt.  That  is  the  finest  letter  I  ever  read;  she  does  kind 
of  stand  up  for  him;  and  in  the  reaction,  impulsive  as  she 
is  and  self-confident — of  course  she  wouldn't,  but  you 
never  can  tell  what  kind  of  fool  a  girl  will  make  of  herself, 
in  some  cases." 

Kate  walked  swiftly,  finished  two  of  the  errands  she  set 
out  to  do,  then  her  feet  carried  her  three  miles   from 


TWO  LETTERS  199 

Hartley  on  the  Walden  road,  before  she  knew  where  she 
was,  so  she  proceeded  to  the  village. 

Mrs.  Holt  was  not  at  home,  but  the  house  was  standing 
open.  Kate  found  her  room  cleaned,  shining,  and  filled 
with  flowers.  She  paid  the  drayman,  opened  her  trunk, 
and  put  away  her  dresses,  laying  out  all  the  things  which 
needed  washing;  then  she  bathed,  put  on  heavy  shoes, 
an  old  skirt  and  waist,  and  crossing  the  road  sat  in  a 
secluded  place  in  the  ravine  and  looked  stupidly  at  the 
water.  She  noticed  that  everything  was  as  she  had  left 
it  in  the  spring,  with  many  fresher  improvements,  made, 
no  doubt,  to  please  her.  She  closed  her  eyes,  leaned 
against  a  big  tree,  and  slow,  cold  and  hot  shudders  alter- 
nated in  shaking  her  frame. 

She  did  not  open  her  eyes  when  she  heard  a  step  and 
her  name  called.  She  knew  without  taking  the  trouble 
to  look  that  George  had  come  home,  found  her  luggage 
in  her  room,  and  was  hunting  for  her.  She  heard  him 
come  closer  and  knew  when  he  seated  himself  that  he  was 
watching  her,  but  she  did  not  care  enough  even  to  move. 
Finally  she  shifted  her  position  to  rest  herself,  opened  her 
eyes,  and  looked  at  him  without  a  word.  He  returned 
her  gaze  steadily,  smiling  gravely.  She  had  never  seen 
him  looking  so  well.  He  had  put  in  the  summer  groom- 
ing himself,  he  had  kept  up  the  house  and  garden,  and 
spent  all  his  spare  time  on  the  ravine,  and  farming  on 
the  shares  with  his  mother's  sister  who  lived  three  miles 
east  of  them.  At  last  she  roused  herself  and  again  looked 
at  him. 


200  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

"I  had  your  letter  this  morning,"  she  said. 

"I  was  wondering  about  that,"  he  replied. 

"Yes,  I  got  it  just  before  I  started,"  said  Kate.  "Are 
you  surprised  to  see  me?" 

"No,"  he  answered.  "After  last  year,  we  figured  you 
might  come  the  last  of  this  week  or  the  first  of  next,  so  we 
got  your  room  ready  Monday." 

"Thank  you,"  said  Kate.     "It's  very  clean  and  nice." 

"I  hope  soon  to  be  able  to  offer  you  such  a  room  and 
home  as  you  should  have,"  he  said.  "I  haven't  opened 
my  office  yet.  It  was  late  and  hot  when  I  got  home  in 
June  and  Mother  was  fussing  about  this  winter — that  she 
had  no  garden  and  didn't  do  her  share  at  Aunt  Ollie's,  so  I 
have  farmed  most  of  the  summer,  and  lived  on  hope;  but 
I'll  start  in  and  make  things  fly  this  fall,  and  by  spring 
I'll  be  sailing  around  with  a  horse  and  carriage  like  the 
best  of  them.  You  bet  I  am  going  to  make  things  hum, 
so  I  can  offer  you  anything  you  want." 

"You  haven't  opened  an  office  yet?"  she  asked  for  the 
sake  of  saying  something,  and  because  a  practical  thing 
would  naturally  suggest  itself  to  her. 

"I  haven't  had  a  breath  of  time,"  he  said  in  candid 
disclaimer. 

"Why  don't  you  ask  me  what's  the  matter?" 

"Didn't  figure  that  it  was  any  of  my  business  in  the 
first  place,"  he  said,  "and  I  have  a  pretty  fair  idea,  in 
the  second." 

"But  how  could  you  have?"  she  asked  in  surprise. 

"When  your  sister  wouldn't  give  me  your  address,  she 


TWO  LETTERS  201 

hinted  that  you  had  all  the  masculine  attention  you  cared 
for;  then  Tilly  Nepple  visited  town  again  last  week  and  she 
had  been  sick  and  called  Dr.  Gray.  She  asked  him 
about  you,  and  he  told  what  a  fine  time  you  had  at 
Chautauqua  and  Chicago,  with  the  rich  new  friends  you'd 
made.  I  was  watching  for  you  about  this  time,  and  I 
just  happened  to  be  at  the  station  in  Hartley  last  Satur- 
day when  you  got  off  the  train  with  your  fine  gentleman, 
so  I  stayed  over  with  some  friends  of  mine,  and  I  saw 
you  several  times  Sunday.  I  saw  that  I'd  practically  no 
chance  with  you  at  all;  but  I  made  up  my  mind  I'd  stick 
until  I  saw  you  married  to  him,  so  I  wrote  just  as  I  would 
if  I  hadn't  known  there  was  another  man  in  existence." 

"That  was  a  very  fine  letter,"  said  Kate. 

"It  is  a  very  fine,  deep,  sincere  love  that  I  am  offering 
you,"  said  George  Holt.  "Of  course  I  could  see  pros- 
perity sticking  out  all  over  that  city  chap,  but  it  didn't 
bother  me  much,  because  I  knew  that  you,  of  all  women, 
would  judge  a  man  on  his  worth.  A  rising  young  pro- 
fessional man  is  not  to  be  sneered  at,  at  least  until  he 
makes  his  start  and  proves  what  he  can  do.  I  couldn't 
get  an  early  start,  because  I've  always  had  to  work,  just 
as  you've  seen  me  last  summer  and  this,  so  I  couldn't 
educate  myself  so  fast,  but  I've  gone  as  fast  and  far  as  I 
could." 

Kate  winced.  This  was  getting  on  places  that  hurt 
and  to  matters  she  well  understood,  but  she  was  the  soul 
of  candour.  "You  did  very  well  to  educate  yourself  as 
you  have,  with  no  help  at  all,"  she  said. 


202  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

"IVe  done  my  best  in  the  past,  I'm  going  to  do  mar- 
vels in  the  fiTure,  and  whatever  I  do,  it  is  all  for  you 
and  yours  for  the  taking,"  he  said  grandiosely. 

"Thank  you,"  said  Kate.  "But  are  you  making  that 
offer  when  you  can't  help  seeing  that  I'm  in  deep  trouble  ? " 

"A  thousand  times  over,"  he  said.  "All  I  want  to 
know  about  your  trouble  is  whether  there  is  anything  a 
man  of  my  size  and  strength  can  do  to  help  you." 

"Not  a  thing,"  said  Kate,  "in  the  direction  of  slaying 
a  gay  deceiver,  if  that's  what  you  mean.  The  extent  of 
my  familiarities  with  John  Jardine  consists  in  voluntarily 
kissing  him  twice  last  Sunday  night  for  the  first  and  last 
time,  once  for  himself,  and  once  for  his  mother,  whom  I 
have  since  ceased  to  respect." 

George  Holt  was  watching  her  with  eyes  lynx-sharp, 
but  Kate  never  saw  it.  When  she  mentioned  her  farewell 
of  Sunday  night,  a  queer  smile  swept  over  his  face  and  in- 
stantly disappeared. 

"I  should  think  any  girl  might  be  permitted  that  much, 
in  saying  a  final  good-bye  to  a  man  who  had  shown  her  a 
fine  time  for  weeks,"  he  commented  casually. 

"But  I  didn't  know  I  was  saying  good-bye,"  explained 
Kate.  "I  expected  him  back  in  a  week,  and  that  I 
would  then  arrange  to  marry  him.  That  was  the  agree- 
ment we  made  then." 

As  she  began  to  speak,  George  Holt's  face  flashed 
triumph  at  having  led  her  on;  at  what  she  said  it  fell 
perceptibly,  but  he  instantly  controlled  it  and  said 
casually:    "In  any  event,  it  was  your  own  business." 


TWO  LETTERS  203 

"It  was,"  said  Kate.  "I  had  given  no  man  the  slightest 
encouragement,  I  was  perfectly  free.  John  Jardine  was 
courting  me  openly  in  the  presence  of  his  mother  and  any 
one  who  happened  to  be  around.  I  intended  to  marry  him. 
I  liked  him  as  much  as  any  man  need  be  liked.  I  don't 
know  whether  it  was  the  same  feeling  Nancy  Ellen  had  for 
Robert  Gray  or  not,  but  it  was  a  whole  lot  of  feeling  of 
some  kind.  I  was  satisfied  with  it,  and  he  would  have 
been.  I  meant  to  be  a  good  wife  to  him  and  a  good 
daughter  to  his  mother,  and  I  could  have  done  much  good 
in  the  world  and  extracted  untold  pleasure  from  the  money 
he  would  have  put  in  my  power  to  handle.  All  was  going 
'merry  as  a  marriage  bell,'  and  then  this  morning  came  my 
Waterloo,  in  the  same  post  with  your  letter." 

"Do  you  know  what  you  are  doing?"  cried  George 
Holt  roughly,  losing  self-control  with  hope.  "  You  are 
proving  to  me,  and  admitting  to  yourself,  that  you  never 
loved  that  man  at  all.  You  were  flattered,  and  tempted 
with  position  and  riches,  but  your  heart  was  not  his,  or 
you  would  be  mighty  sure  of  it,  don't  you  forget 
that!" 

"I'm  not  interested  in  analyzing  exactly  what  I  felt 
for  him,"  said  Kate.  "It  made  small  difference  then;  it 
makes  none  at  all  now.  I  would  have  married  him 
gladly,  and  I  would  have  been  to  him  all  a  good  wife  is 
to  any  man;  then  in  a  few  seconds  I  turned  squarely 
against  him,  and  lost  my  respect  for  him.  -  You  couldn't 
marry  me  to  him  if  he  were  the  last  and  only  man  on 
earth;  but  it  hurt  terribly,  let  me  tell  you  that!" 


2o4  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

George  Holt  suddenly  arose  and  went  to  Kate.  He 
sat  down  close  beside  her  and  leaned  toward  her. 

"There  isn't  the  least  danger  of  my  trying  to  marry 
you  to  him,"  he  said,  "because  I  am  going  to  marry 
you  myself  at  the  very  first  opportunity.  Why  not 
now?  Why  not  have  a  simple  ceremony  somewhere  at 
once,  and  go  away  until  school  begins,  and  forget  him, 
having  a  good  time  by  ourselves?  Come  on,  Kate,  let's 
do  it !  We  can  go  stay  with  Aunt  Ollie,  and  if  he  comes, 
trying  to  force  himself  on  you,  he'll  get  what  he  deserves. 
He'll  learn  that  there  is  something  on  earth  he  can't  buy 
with  his  money." 

"  But  I  don't  love  you,"  said  Kate. 

"Neither  did  you  love  him,"  retorted  George  Holt. 
"I  can  prove  it  by  what  you  say.  Neither  did  you  love 
him,  but  you  were  going  to  marry  him,  and  use  all  his 
wonderful  power  of  position  and  wealth,  and  trust  to 
association  to  bring  love.  You  can  try  that  with  me. 
As  for  wealth,  who  cares  ?  We  are  young  and  strong,  and 
we  have  a  fine  chance  in  the  world.  You  go  on  and  teach 
this  year,  and  I'll  get  such  a  start  that  by  next  year  you 
can  be  riding  around  in  your  carriage,  proud  as  Pompey." 

"Of  course  we  could  make  it  all  right,  as  to  a  living," 
said  Kate.    "Big  and  strong  as  we  are,  but " 

Then  the  torrent  broke.  At  the  first  hint  that  she 
would  consider  his  proposal  George  Holt  drew  her  to  him 
and  talked  volumes  of  impassioned  love  to  her.  He  gave 
her  no  chance  to  say  anything;  he  said  all  there  was  to 
say  himself;  he  urged  that  Jardine  would  come,  and  sht. 


TWO  LETTERS  205 

should  not  be  there.  He  begged,  he  pleaded,  he  rea- 
soned. Night  found  Kate  sitting  on  the  back  porch 
at  Aunt  Ollie's  with  a  confused  memory  of  having  stood 
beside  the  little  stream  with  her  hand  in  George  Holt's 
while  she  assented  to  the  questions  of  a  Justice  of  the 
Peace,  in  the  presence  of  the  School  Director  and  Mrs. 
Holt.  She  knew  that  immediately  thereafter  they  had 
walked  away  along  a  hot,  dusty  country  road;  she  had 
tried  to  eat  something  that  tasted  like  salted  ashes. 
She  could  hear  George's  ringing  laugh  of  exultation 
breaking  out  afresh  every  few  minutes;  in  sudden  irri- 
tation at  the  latest  loud  guffaw  she  clearly  remembered 
one  thing:  in  her  dazed  and  bewildered  state  she  had 
forgotten  to  tell  him  that  she  was  a  Prodigal  Daughter. 


CHAPTER  XIII 
The  Bride 

ONLY  one  memory  in  the  ten  days  that  followed 
before  her  school  began  ever  stood  out  clearly 
and  distinctly  with  Kate.  That  was  the  morn- 
ing of  the  day  after  she  married  George  Holt.  She  saw 
Nancy  Ellen  and  Robert  at  the  gate  so  she  went  out  to 
speak  with  them.  Nancy  Ellen  was  driving,  she  held  the 
lines  and  the  whip  in  her  hands.  Kate  in  dull  apathy 
wondered  why  they  seemed  so  deeply  agitated.  Both  of 
them  stared  at  her  as  if  she  might  be  a  maniac. 

"Is  this  thing  in  the  morning  paper  true?"  cried  Nancy 
Ellen  in  a  high,  shrill  voice  that  made  Kate  start  in 
wonder.  She  did  not  take  the  trouble  to  evade  by  asking 
"what  thing?"  she  merely  made  assent  with  her  head. 

"You  are  married  to  that — that "     Nancy  Ellen 

choked  until  she  could  not  say  what. 

"It's  time  to  stop,  since  I  am  married  to  him,"  said 
Kate,  gravely. 

"You  rushed  in  and  married  him  without  giving 
Robert  time  to  find  out  and  tell  you  what  everybody 
knows  about  him?"  demanded  Nancy  Ellen. 

"I  married  him  for  what  I  knew  about  him  myself," 
said  Kate.     "We  shall  do  very  well." 

206 


THE  BRIDE  207 

" Do  well ! "  cried  Nancy.  "  Do  well !  You'll  be  hungry 
and  in  rags  the  rest  of  your  life." 

"Don't,  Nancy  Ellen,  don't!"  plead  Robert.  "This 
is  Kate's  affair,  wait  until  you  hear  what  she  has  to  say 
before  you  go  further." 

"I  don't  care  what  she  has  to  say!"  cried  Nancy 
Ellen.  "I'm  saying  my  say  right  now.  This  is  a  disgrace 
to  the  whole  Bates  family.  We  may  not  be  much,  but 
there  isn't  a  lazy,  gambling,  drunken  loafer  among  us, 
and  there  won't  be  so  far  as  I'm  concerned." 

She  glared  at  Kate  who  gazed  at  her  in  wonder. 

"You  really  married  this  lout?"  she  demanded. 

"I  told  you  I  was  married,"  said  Kate,  patiently,  for 
she  saw  that  Nancy  Ellen  was  irresponsible  with  anger. 

"You're  going  to  live  with  him,  you're  going  to  stay 
in  Walden  to  live?"  she  cried. 

"That  is  my  plan  at  present,"  said  Kate. 

"Well,  see  that  you  stay  there,"  said  Nancy  Ellen. 
"You  can't  bring  that — that  creature  to  my  house,  and 
if  you're  going  to  be  his  wife,  you  needn't  come  yourself. 
That's  all  I've  got  to  say  to  you,  you  shameless, 
crazy " 

"Nancy  Ellen,  you  shall  not!"  cried  Robert  Gray, 
deftly  slipping  the  lines  from  her  fingers,  and  starting  the 
horse  full  speed.  Kate  saw  Nancy  Ellen's  head  fall 
forward,  and  her  hands  lifted  to  cover  her  face.  She 
heard  the  deep,  tearing  sob  that  shook  her,  and  then 
they  were  gone.  She  did  not  know  what  to  do,  so  she 
stood    still   in   the   hot   sunshine,   trying  to   think;   but 


208  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

her  brain  refused  to  act  at  her  will.  When  the  heat 
became  oppressive,  she  turned  back  to  the  shade  of  a 
tree,  sat  down,  and  leaned  against  it.  There  she  got  two 
things  clear  after  a  time.  She  had  married  George  Holt, 
there  was  nothing  to  do  but  make  the  best  of  it.  But 
Nancy  Ellen  had  said  that  if  she  lived  with  him  she 
should  not  come  to  her  home.  Very  well.  She  had  to 
live  with  him,  since  she  had  consented  to  marry  him,  so 
she  was  cut  off  from  Robert  and  Nancy  Ellen.  She  was 
now  a  prodigal,  indeed.  And  those  things  Nancy  Ellen 
had  said — she  was  wild  with  anger.  She  had  been  mis- 
informed.   Those  things  could  not  be  true. 

"Shouldn't  you  be  in  here  helping  Aunt  Ollie?"  asked 
George's  voice  from  the  front  step  where  he  seated 
himself  with  his  pipe. 

"Yes,  in  a  minute,"  said  Kate,  rising.  "Did  you  see 
who  came?" 

"No.  I  was  out  doing  the  morning  work.  Who  was 
it?"  he  asked. 

"Nancy  Ellen  and  Robert,"  she  answered. 

He  laughed  hilariously:  "Brought  them  in  a  hurry, 
didn't  we?    Why  didn't  they  come  in?" 

"They  came  to  tell  me,"  said  Kate,  slowly,  "that  if  I 
had  married  you  yesterday,  as  I  did,  that  they  felt  so 
disgraced  that  I  wasn't  to  come  to  their  home  again." 

"'Disgraced?'"  he  cried,  his  colour  rising.  "Well, 
what's  the  matter  with  me?" 

"Not  the  things  they  said,  I  fervently  hope." 

"Well,  they  have  some  assurance  to  come  out  here  and 


THE  BRIDE  209 

talk  about  me,  and  you've  got  as  much  to  listen,  and 
then  come  and  tell  me  about  it,"  he  cried. 

"It  was  over  in  a  minute,"  said  Kate.  "I'd  no  idea 
what  they  were  going  to  say.  The}''  said  it,  and  went. 
Oh,  I  can't  spare  Nancy  Ellen,  she's  all  I  had!" 

Kate  sank  down  on  the  step  and  covered  her  face. 
George  took  one  long  look  at  her,  arose,  and  walked  out  of 
hearing.  He  went  into  the  garden  and  watched  from 
behind  a  honeysuckle  bush  until  he  saw  her  finally  lift 
her  head  and  wipe  her  eyes;  then  he  sauntered  back,  and 
sat  down  on  the  step  beside  her. 

"That's  right,"  he  said.  "Cry  it  out,  and  get  it  over. 
It  was  pretty  mean  of  them  to  come  out  here  and  insult 
you,  and  tell  any  lie  they  could  think  up,  and  then  drive 
away  and  leave  you;  but  don't  mind,  they'll  soon  get  over 
it.    Nobody  ever  keeps  up  a  fuss  over  a  wedding  long." 

"Nancy  Ellen  never  told  a  lie  in  her  life,"  said  Kate. 
"She  has  too  much  self-respect.  What  she  said  she  thought 
was  true.  My  only  chance  is  that  somebody  has  told  her 
a  lie.    You  know  best  if  they  did." 

"Of  course  they  did,"  he  broke  in,  glibly.  "Haven't 
you  lived  in  the  same  house  with  me  long  enough  to 
know  me  better  than  any  one  else  does?" 

"You  can  live  in  the  same  house  with  people  and  know 
less  about  them  than  any  one  else,  for  that  matter,"  said 
Kate,  "but  that's  neither  here  nor  there.  We're  in  this 
together,  we  got  to  get  on  the  job  and  pull,  and  make^a 
success  out  of  it  that  will  make  all  of  them  proud  to 
be  our  friends.     That's  the  only  thing  left  for  me.     As  I 


210  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

know  the  Bates,  once  they  make  up  their  minds,  they 
never  change.  With  Nancy  Ellen  and  Father  both  down 
on  me,  I'm  a  prodigal  for  sure." 

"What?"  he  cried,  loudly.  "What?  Is  your  father 
in  this,  too?  Did  he  send  you  word  you  couldn't  come 
home,  either?    This  is  a  hell  of  a  mess!    Speak  up!" 

Kate  closed  her  lips,  looked  at  him  with  deep  scorn, 
and  walked  around  the  corner  of  the  house.  For  a  second 
he  looked  after  her  threateningly,  then  he  sprang  to  his 
feet,  and  ran  to  her,  catching  her  in  his  arms. 

"Forgive  me,  dearest,"  he  cried.  "That  took  the  wind 
out  of  my  sails  until  I  was  a  brute.  You'd  no  business 
to  say  a  thing  like  that.  Of  course  we  can't  have  the 
old  Land  King  down  on  us.  We've  got  to  have  our 
share  of  that  land  and  money  to  buy  us  a  fine  home  in 
Hartley,  and  fix  me  up  the  kind  of  an  office  I  should 
have.  We'll  borrow  a  rig  and  drive  over  to-morrow  and 
fix  things  solid  with  the  old  folks.  You  bet  I'm  a  star- 
spangled  old  persuader,  look  what  I  did  with  you " 

"You  stop!"  cried  Kate,  breaking  from  his  hold. 
"You  will  drive  me  crazy!  You're  talking  as  if  you 
married  me  expecting  land  and  money  from  it.  I  haven't 
been  home  in  a  year,  and  my  father  would  -deliberately 
kill  me  if  I  went  within  his  reach." 

"Well,  score  one  for  little  old  scratching  pickin',  Mam- 
my!" he  cried.     "She  said  you  had  a  secret!" 

Kate  stood  very  still,  looking  at  him  so  intently  that 
a  sense  of  shame  must  have  stirred  in  his  breast. 

"Look  here,  Kate,"  he  said,  roughly.     "Mother  did 


THE  BRIDE  211 

say  you  had  a  secret,  and  she  hinted  at  Christmas  that 
the  reason  you  didn't  go  home  was  because  your  folks 
were  at  outs  with  you,  and  you  can  ask  her  if  I  didn't 
tell  her  to  shut  up  and  leave  you  alone,  that  I  was  in 
love  with  you,  and  I'd  marry  you  and  we'd  get  along  all 
right,  even  if  you  were  barred  from  home,  and  didn't  get  a 
penny.    I  just  dare  you  to  ask  her." 

"It's  no  matter,"  said  Kate,  wearily.  "I'd  rather 
take  your  word." 

"All  right,  you  take  it,  for  that's  the  truth,"  he  said. 
"But  what  was  the  rumpus?  How  did  you  come  to  have 
a  racket  with  your  old  man  ? " 

"Over  my  wanting  to  teach,"  said  Kate.  Then  she 
explained  in  detail. 

"Pother!  Don't  you  fret  about  that!"  said  George. 
"I'm  taking  care  of  you  now,  and  I'll  see  that  you  soon  get 
home  and  to  Grays',  too;  that's  all  buncombe.  As  for 
your  share  of  your  father's  estate,  you  watch  me  get 
it!     You  are  his  child,  and  there  is  law!" 

"There's  law  that  allows  him  to  deed  his  land  to  his 
sons  before  he  dies,  and  that  is  exactly  what  he  has 
done,"  said  Kate. 

"The  Devil,  you  say!"  shouted  George  Holt,  stepping 
back  to  stare  at  her.  "You  tell  that  at  the  Insane  Asylum 
or  the  Feeble  Minded  Home!  I've  seen  the  records! 
I  know  to  the  acre  how  much  land  stands  in  your  father's 
name.     Don't  try  to  work  that  on  me,  my  lady." 

"I  am  not  trying  to  work  anything  on  you,"  said 
Kate,  dully,  wondering  to  herself  why  she  listened,  why 


212  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

she  went  on  with  it.  "  Fm  merely  telling  you.  In  Father's 
big  chest  at  the  head  of  his  bed  at  home  lies  a  deed  for 
two  hundred  acres  of  land  for  each  «f  his  seven  sons,  all 
signed  and  ready  to  deliver.  He  keeps  the  land  in  his  name 
on  record  to  bring  him  distinction  and  feed  his  vanity. 
He  makes  the  boys  pay  the  taxes,  and  ko-tow,  and  help  with 
his  work;  he  keeps  them  under  control;  but  the  land  is 
theirs;  none  of  the  girls  gets  a  penny's  worth  of  it!" 

George  Holt  cleared  his  face  with  an  effort. 

"Well,  we  are  no  worse  off  than  the  rest  of  them, 
then,"  he  said,  trying  to  speak  naturally  and  cheerfully. 
"But  don't  you  ever  believe  it!  Little  old  Georgie  will 
sleep  with  this  in  his  night  cap  awhile,  and  it's  a  problem 
he  will  solve  if  he  works  himself  to  death  on  it." 

"But  that  is  Father's  affair," said  Kate.  "You  had  best 
turn  your  efforts,  and  lie  awake  nights  thinking  how  to 
make  enough  money  to  buy  some  land  for  us,  yourself." 

"Certainly!  Certainly!  I  see  myself  doing  it!" 
laughed  George  Holt.  "And  now,  knowing  how  you 
feel,  and  feeling  none  too  good  myself,  we  are  going  to  take 
a  few  days  off  and  go  upstream,  fishing.  I'll  take  a  pack 
of  comforts  to  sleep  on,  and  the  tackle  and  some  food, 
and  we  will  forget  the  whole  bunch  and  go  have  a  good 
time.  There's  a  place,  not  so  far  away,  where  I  have 
camped  beside  a  spring  since  I  was  a  little  shaver,  and 
it's  quiet  and  cool.  Go  get  what  you  can't  possibly 
exist  without,  nothing  more." 

"But  we  must  dig  the  potatoes,"  protested  Kate. 

"Let  them  wait  until  we  get  back;  it's  a  trifle  early, 


THE  BRIDE  213 

anyway,"  he  said.  "Stop  objecting  and  get  ready! 
I'll  tell  Aunt  Ollie.  We're  chums.  Whatever  I  do  is 
always  all  right  with  her.  Come  on !  This  is  our  wedding 
trip.  Not  much  like  the  one  you  had  planned,  no  doubt, 
but  one  of  some  kind." 

So  they  slipped  beneath  the  tangle  of  vines  and  bushes, 
and,  following  the  stream  of  the  ravine,  they  walked  until 
mid-afternoon,  when  they  reached  a  spot  that  was  very 
lovely,  a  clear,  clean  spring,  grassy  bank,  a  sheltered 
cave-in  floored  with  clean  sand,  warm  and  golden.  From 
the  depths  of  the  cave  George  brought  an  old  frying  pan 
and  coffee  pot.  He  spread  a  comfort  on  the  sand  of  the 
cave  for  a  bed,  produced  coffee,  steak,  bread,  butter,  and 
fruit  from  his  load,  and  told  Kate  to  make  herself  com- 
fortable while  he  got  dinner.  They  each  tried  to  make 
allowances  for,  and  to  be  as  decent  as  possible  with, 
the  other,  with  the  result  that  before  they  knew  it, 
they  were  having  a  good  time;  at  least,  they  were  keep- 
ing the  irritating  things  they  thought  to  themselves,  and 
saying  only  the  pleasant  ones. 

After  a  week,  which  George  enjoyed  to  the  fullest  extent, 
while  Kate  made  the  best  of  everything,  they  put  away 
the  coffee  pot  and  frying  pan,  folded  the  comforts,  and 
went  back  to  Aunt  Ollie's  for  dinner;  then  to  Walden  in  the 
afternoon.  Because  Mrs.  Holt  knew  they  would  be  there 
that  day  she  had  the  house  clean  and  the  best  supper  she 
could  prepare  ready  for  them.  She  was  in  a  quandary  as 
to  how  to  begin  with  Kate.  She  heartily  hated  her.1 
She  had  been  sure  the  girl  had  a  secret,  now  she  knew  it; 


2i4  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

for  if  she  did  not  attend  the  wedding  of  her  sister,  if  she 
had  not  been  at  home  all  summer,  if  her  father  and 
mother  never  mentioned  her  name  or  made  any  answer 
to  any  one  who  did,  there  was  a  reason,  and  a  good  reason. 
Of  course  a  man  as  rich  as  Adam  Bates  could  do  no 
wrong;  whatever  the  trouble  was,  Kate  was  at  fault,  she 
had  done  some  terrible  thing. 

"Hidin'  in  the  bushes!"  spat  Mrs.  Holt.  "Hidin'  in 
the  bushes!  Marry  a  man  who  didn't  know  he  was 
goin'  to  be  married  an  hour  before,  unbeknownst  to  her 
folks,  an'  wouldn't  even  come  in  the  house,  an'  have  a  few 
of  the  neighbours  in.  Nice  doin's  for  the  school-ma'am ! 
Nice  prospect  for  George." 

Mrs.  Holt  hissed  like  a  copperhead,  which  was  a  harm- 
less little  creature  compared  with  her,  as  she  scraped, 
and  slashed,  and  dismembered  the  chicken  she  was  pre- 
paring to  fry.  She  had  not  been  able,  even  by  running 
into  each  store  in  the  village,  and  the  post  office,  to  find 
one  person  who  would  say  a  word  against  Kate.  The 
girl  had  laid  her  foundations  too  well.  The  one  thing 
people  could  and  did  say  was:  "How  could  she  marry 
George  Holt?"  The  worst  of  them  could  not  very  well 
say  it  to  his  mother.  They  said  it  frequently  to  each 
other  and  then  supplied  the  true  answers.  "Look  how  he 
spruced  up  after  she  came!"  "Look  how  he  worked!" 
"Look  how  he  ran  after  and  waited  on  her!"  "Look 
how  nice  he  has  been  all  summer!"  Plenty  was  being 
said  in  Walden,  but  not  one  word  of  it  was  for  the  itching 
ears  of  Mrs.  Holt.     They  had  told  her  how  splendid  Kate 


THE  BRIDE  215 

was,  how  they  loved  her,  how  glad  they  were  that  she 
was  to  have  the  school  again,  how  fortunate  her  son  was, 
how  proud  she  should  be,  until  she  was  almost  bursting 
with  repressed  venom. 

She  met  them  at  the  gate,  after  their  week's  camping. 
They  were  feeling  in  splendid  health,  the  best  spirits  pos- 
sible in  the  circumstances,  but  appearing  dirty  and  dis- 
reputable. They  were  both  laughing  as  they  approached 
the  gate. 

"Purty  lookin'  bride  you  be!"  Mrs.  Holt  spat  at  Kate. 

"Yes,  aren't  I?"  laughed  Kate.  "But  you  just  give 
me  a  tub  of  hot  soapsuds  and  an  hour,  and  you  won't 
know  me.  How  are  you?  Things  look  as  if  you  were 
expecting  us." 

"Hump!"  said  Mrs.  Holt. 

Kate  laughed  and  went  into  the  house.  George 
stepped  in  front  of  his  mother. 

"Now  you  look  here,"  he  said.  I  know  every  nasty 
thing  your  mind  has  conjured  up  that  you'd  like  to  say, 
and  have  other  folks  say,  about  Kate.  And  I  know  as 
well  as  if  you  were  honest  enough  to  tell  me,  that  you 
haven't  been  able  to  root  out  one  living  soul  who  would 
say  a  single  word  against  her.  Swallow  your  secret! 
SwaHow  your  suspicions !  Swallow  your  venom,  and  for- 
get all  of  them.  Kate  is  as  fine  a  woman  as  God  ever 
made,  and  anybody  who  has  common  sense  knows  it. 
She  can  just  make  me,  if  she  wants  to,  and  she  will;  she's 
coming  on  fine,  much  faster  and  better  than  I  hoped  for. 
Now  you  drop  this!     Stop  it!     Do  you  hear?" 


216  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

He  passed  her  and  hurried  up  the  walk.  In  an  hour, 
both  George  and  Kate  had  bathed  and  dressed  in  their 
very  best.  Kate  put  on  her  prettiest  white  dress  and 
George  his  graduation  suit.  Then  together  they  walked 
to  the  post  office  for  their  mail,  which  George  had  ordered 
held,  before  they  left.  Carrying  the  bundle,  they  entered 
several  stores  on  trifling  errands,  and  then  went  home. 
They  stopped  and  spoke  to  everyone.  Kate  kissed  all 
her  little  pupils  she  met,  and  told  them  to  come  to  see 
her,  and  to  be  ready  to  help  clean  the  schoolhouse  in  the 
morning.  Word  flew  over  town  swiftly.  The  Teacher 
was  back,  wearing  the  loveliest  dress,  and  nicer  than  ever, 
and  she  had  invited  folks  to  come  to  see  her. 
|  Kate  and  George  had  scarcely  finished  their  supper, 
when  the  first  pair  of  shy  little  girls  came  for  their  kisses 
and  to  bring  "Teacher"  a  bunch  of  flowers  and  a  pretty 
pocket  handkerchief  from  each.  They  came  in  flocks, 
each  with  flowers,  most  with  a  towel  or  some  small  remem- 
brance; then  the  elders  began  to  come,  merchants  with 
comforts,  blankets,  and  towels,  hardware  men  with  frying 
pans,  flat  irons,  and  tinware.  By  ten  o'clock  almost 
everyone  in  Walden  had  carried  Kate  some  small  gift, 
wished  her  joy  all  the  more  earnestly,  because  they  felt 
the  chances  of  her  ever  having  it  were  so  small,  and  had 
gone  their  way,  leaving  her  feeling  better  than  she  had 
thought  possible. 

She  slipped  into  her  room  alone  and  read  two  letters, 
one  a  few  typewritten  lines  from  John  Jardine,  saying  he 
had  been  at  Hartley,  also  at  Walden,  and  having  found 


THE  BRIDE  217 

her  married  and  gone,  there  was  nothing  for  him  to  do  but 
wish  that  the  man  she  married  had  it  in  his  heart  to  guard 
her  life  and  happiness  as  he  would  have  done.  He  would 
never  cease  to  love  her,  and  if  at  any  time  in  her  life  there 
was  anything  he  could  do  for  her,  would  she  please  let 
him  know.  Kate  dropped  the  letter  on  her  dresser,  with  a 
purpose,  and  let  it  lie  there.  The  other  was  from  Robert. 
He  said  he  was  very  sorry,  but  he  could  do  nothing  with 
Nancy  Ellen  at  present.  He  hoped  she  would  change 
later.  If  there  was  ever  anything  he  could  do,  to  let 
him  know.  Kate  locked  that  letter  in  her  trunk.  She 
wondered  as  she  did  so  why  both  of  them  seemed  to 
think  she  would  need  them  in  the  future.  She  felt  per- 
fectly able  to  take  care  of  herself. 

Monday  morning  George  carried  Kate's  books  to 
school  for  her,  saw  that  she  was  started  on  her  work  in 
good  shape,  then  went  home,  put  on  his  old  clothes,  and 
began  the  fall  work  at  Aunt  Ollie's.  Kate,  wearing  her 
prettiest  blue  dress,  forgot  even  the  dull  ache  in  her  heart, 
as  she  threw  herself  into  the  business  of  educating  those 
young  people.  She  worked  as  she  never  had  before. 
She  seemed  to  have  developed  fresh  patience,  new  per- 
ception, keener  penetration;  she  made  the  dullest  of  them 
see  her  points,  and  interested  the  most  inattentive.  She 
went  home  to  dinner  feeling  better.  She  decided  to 
keep  on  teaching  a  few  years  until  George  was  well 
started  in  his  practice;  if  he  ever  got  started.  He  was 
very  slow  in  action  it  seemed  to  her,  compared  with  his 
enthusiasm  when  he  talked. 


CHAPTER  XIV 
Starting  Married  Life 

FOR  two  weeks  Kate  threw  herself  into  the  business 
of  teaching  with  all  her  power.  She  succeeded  in 
so  interesting  herself  and  her  pupils  that  she  was 
convinced  she  had  done  a  wise  thing.  Marriage  did  not 
interfere  with  her  teaching;  she  felt  capable  and  inde- 
pendent so  long  as  she  had  her  salary.  George  was  working 
and  working  diligently,  to  prepare  for  winter,  whenever 
she  was  present  or  could  see  results.  With  her  first 
month's  salary  she  would  buy  herself  a  warm  coat,  a 
wool  suit,  an  extra  skirt  for  school,  and  some  waists.  If 
there  was  enough  left,  she  would  have  another  real  hat. 
Then  for  the  remainder  of  the  year  she  would  spend  only 
for  the  barest  necessities  and  save  to  help  toward  a  home 
something  like  Nancy  Ellen's.  Whenever  she  thought  of 
Nancy  Ellen  and  Robert  there  was  a  choking  sensation 
in  her  throat,  a  dull  ache  where  she  had  been  taught  hef 
heart  was  located. 

For  two  weeks  everything  went  as  well  as  Kate  hoped; 
then  Mrs.  Holt  began  to  show  the  results  of  having  been 
partially  bottled  up,  for  the  first  time  in  her  life.  She 
was  careful  to  keep  to  generalities  which  she  could  claim 
meant  nothing,  if  anything  she  said  was  taken  up  by 

218 


STARTING  MARRIED  LIFE  219 

either  George  or  Kate.  George  was  too  lazy  to  quarrel 
unless  he  was  personally  angered;  Kate  thought  best  to 
ignore  anything  that  did  not  come  in  the  nature  of 
a  direct  attack.  So  long  as  Mrs.  Holt  could  not  under- 
stand how  some  folks  could  see  their  way  to  live  off 
of  other  folks,  or  why  a  girl  who  had  a  chance  to 
marry  a  fortune  would  make  herself  a  burden  to  a  poor 
man,  Kate  made  the  mistake  of  ignoring  her.  Thus 
emboldened  she  soon  became  personal.  It  seemed  as  if 
she  spent  her  spare  time  and  mental  force  thinking  up 
suggestive,  sarcastic  things  to  say,  where  Kate  could  not 
help  hearing  them.  She  paid  no  attention  unless  the 
attack  was  too  mean  and  premeditated;  but  to  her  sur- 
prise she  found  that  every  ugly,  malicious  word  the  old 
woman  said  lodged  in  her  brain  and  arose  to  confront  her 
at  the  most  inopportune  times — in  the  middle  of  a  recita- 
tion or  when  she  roused  enough  to  turn  over  in  her  bed  at 
night.  The  more  vigorously  she  threw  herself  into  her 
school  work,  the  more  she  realized  a  queer  lassitude  creep- 
ing over  her.  She  kept  squaring  her  shoulders,  lifting  her 
chin,  and  brushing  imaginary  cobwebs  from  before  her  face. 
The  final  Friday  evening  of  the*month,  she  stopped  at 
the  post  office  and  carried  away  with  her  the  bill  for  her 
Leghorn  hat,  mailed  with  nicely  conceived  estimate  as  to 
when  her  first  check  would  be  due.  Kate  visited  the 
Trustee,  then  smiled  grimly  as  she  slipped  the  amount  in 
an  envelope  and  gave  it  to  the  hack  driver  to  carry  to 
Hartley  on  his  trip  the  following  day.  She  had  intended 
all  fall  to  go  with  him  and  select  a  winter  headpiece  that 


220  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

would  be  no  discredit  to  her  summer  choice,  but  a  sort 
of  numbness  was  in  her  bones;  so  she  decided  to  wait 
until  the  coming  week  before  going.  She  declined 
George's  pressing  invitation  to  go  along  to  Aunt  Ollie's  and 
help  load  and  bring  home  a  part  of  his  share  of  their  sum- 
mer's crops,  on  the  ground  that  she  had  some  work  to 
prepare  for  the  coming  week. 

Then  Kate  went  to  her  room  feeling  faint  and  heavy. 
She  lay  there  most  of  the  day,  becoming  sorrier  for  herself, 
and  heavier  every  passing  hour.  By  morning  she  was 
violently  ill;  when  she  tried  to  leave  her  bed,  dizzy  and 
faint.  All  day  she  could  not  stand.  Toward  evening,  she 
appealed  to  George  either  to  do  something  for  her  himself, 
or  to  send  for  the  village  doctor.  He  asked  her  a  few  ques- 
tions and  then,  laughing  coarsely,  told  her  that  a  doctor 
would  do  her  no  good,  and  that  it  was  very  probable  that 
she  would  feel  far  worse  before  she  felt  better.  Kate 
stared  at  him  in  dumb  wonder. 

"But  my  school!"  she  cried.  "My  school!  I  must 
be  able  to  go  to  school  in  the  morning.  Could  that 
spring  water  have  been  infected  with  typhus?  I've  never 
been  sick  like  this  before." 

"I  should  hope  not!"  said  George.  And  then  he 
told  her  bluntly  what  caused  her  trouble.  Kate  had 
been  white  to  begin  with,  now  she  slowly  turned 
greenish  as  she  gazed  at  him  with  incredulous  eyes. 
Then  she  sprang  to  her  feet. 

"  But  I  can't  be  ill ! "  she  cried.  "  I  can't !  There  is  my 
school!     I've  got  to  teach !     Oh,  what  shall  I  do?" 


STARTING  MARRIED  LIFE  221 

George  had  a  very  clear  conception  of  what  she  could 
do,  but  he  did  not  intend  to  suggest  it  to  her.  She 
could  think  of  it,  and  propose  it  herself.  She  could  not 
think  of  anything  at  that  minute,  because  she  fainted, 
and  fell  half  on  the  bed,  half  in  his  arms  as  he  sprang  to 
her.  He  laid  her  down,  and  stood  a  second  smiling  tri- 
umphantly at  her  unheeding  face. 

"Easy  snap  for  you  this  winter,  Georgie,  my  boy!"  he 
muttered.  "I  don't  see  people  falling  over  each  other  to 
get  to  you  for  professional  services,  and  it's  hard  work 
anyway.  Zonoletics  are  away  above  the  head  of  these 
country  ignoramuses;  blue  mass  and  quinine  are  about 
their  limit." 

He  took  his  time  to  bathe  Kate's  face.  Presently  she 
sat  up,  then  fell  on  the  pillow  again. 

"Better  not  try  that!"  warned  George.  "You'll  hurt 
yourself,  and  you  can't  make  it.  You're  out  of  the 
game;  you  might  as  well  get  used  to  it." 

"I  won't  be  out  of  the  game!"  cried  Kate.  "I  can't 
be!  What  will  become  of  my  school?  Oh,  George,  could 
you  possibly  teach  for  me,  only  for  a  few  days,  until  I 
get  my  stomach  settled?" 

"Why,  I'd  like  to  help  you,"  he  said,  "but  you  see  how 
it  is  with  me.  I've  got  my  fall  work  finished  up,  and  I'm 
getting  ready  to  open  my  office  next  week.  I'm  going  to 
rent  that  nice  front  room  over  the  post  office." 

"But,  George,  you  must,"  said  Kate.  "You've  taught 
several  terms.  You've  a  license.  You  can  take  it  until 
this  passes.     If  you  have  waited  from  June  to  October  t^ 


222  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

open  your  office,  you  can  wait  a  few  more  days.  Suppose 
you  open  the  office  and  patients  don't  come,  and  we  haven't 
the  school;  what  would  we  live  on?  What  would  I  buy 
things  with,  and  pay  doctor  bills?" 

"Why  didn't  you  think  of  that  before  you  got  mar- 
ried ?  What  was  your  rush,  anyway  ?  I  can't  figure  it 
to  save  my  soul,"  he  said. 

"George,  the  school  can't  go,"  she  cried.  "If  what  you 
say  is  true,  and  I  suspect  it  is,  I  must  have  money  to  see 
me  through." 

"Then  set  your  wits  to  work  and  fix  things  up  with 
your  father,"  he  said  casually. 

Kate  arose  tall  and  straight,  standing  unwaveringly  as 
she  looked  at  him  in  blazing  contempt. 

"So?"  she  said.  "This  is  the  kind  of  man  you  are? 
I'm  not  so  helpless  as  you  think  me.  I  have  a  refuge.  I 
know  where  to  find  it.  You'll  teach  my  school  until  I'm 
able  to  take  it  myself,  if  the  Trustee  and  patrons  will 
allow  you,  or  I'll  sever  my  relations  with  you  as  quickly 
as  I  formed  them.  You  have  no  practice;  I  have  grave 
doubts  if  you  can  get  any;  this  is  our  only  chance  for  the 
money  we  must  have  this  winter.  Go  ask  the  Trustee 
to  come  here  until  I  can  make  arrangements  with  him." 

Then  she  wavered  and  rolled  on  the  bed  again.  George 
stood  looking  at  her  between  narrowed  eyelids. 

"Tactics  I  use  with  Mother  don't  go  with  you,  old  girl," 
he  said  to  himself.  "Thing  of  fire  and  tow,  stubborn  as 
an  ox;  won't  be  pushed  a  hair's  breadth;  old  Bates  over 
again —  alike  as  two  peas.     But  I'll  break  you,  damn  you, 


STARTING  MARRIED  LIFE  223 

1*11  break  you;  only,  I  want  that  school.  Lots  easier  than 
kneading  somebody's  old  stiff  muscles,  while  the  money 
is  sure.     Oh,  I  go  after  the  Trustee,  all  right !" 

He  revived  Kate,  and  telling  her  to  keep  quiet,  and  not 
excite  herself,  he  explained  that  it  was  a  terrible  sacrifice 
to  him  to  put  off  opening  his  office  any  longer;  she  must 
forgive  him  for  losing  self-control  when  he  thought  of  it; 
but  for  her  dear  sake  he  would  teach  until  she  was  better — 
possibly  she  would  be  all  right  in  a  few  days,  and  then  she 
could  take  her  work  again.  Because  she  so  devoutly 
hoped  it,  Kate  made  that  arrangement  with  the  Trustee. 
Monday,  she  lay  half  starved,  yet  gagging  and  ill,  while 
George  went  to  teach  her  school.  As  she  contemplated 
that,  she  grew  sicker  than  she  had  been  before.  When 
she  suddenly  marshalled  all  the  facts  she  knew  of  him,  she 
stoutly  refused  to  think  of  what  Nancy  Ellen  had  said; 
when  she  reviewed  his  character  and  disposition,  and 
thought  of  him  taking  charge  of  the  minds  of  her  pupils, 
Kate  suddenly  felt  she  must  not  allow  that  to  happen, 
she  must  not!  Then  came  another  thought,  even  more 
personal  and  terrible,  a  thought  so  disconcerting  she  mer- 
cifully lost  consciousness  again. 

She  sent  for  the  village  doctor,  and  found  no  consolation 
from  her  talk  with  him.  She  was  out  of  the  school;  that 
was  settled.  No  harpy  ever  went  to  its  meat  with  one 
half  the  zest  Mrs.  Holt  found  in  the  situation.  With 
Kate  so  ill  she  could  not  stand  on  her  feet  half  the  time, 
so  ill  she  could  not  reply,  with  no  spirit  left  to  appeal  to 
George,  what  more  could  be  asked?     Mrs. -Holt  could  add 


224  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

to  every  grievance  she  formerly  had,  that  of  a  sick  woman 
in  the  house  for  her  to  wait  on.  She  could  even  make 
vile  insinuations  to  Kate,  prostrate  and  helpless,  that  she 
would  not  have  dared  otherwise.  She  could  prepare  food 
that  with  a  touch  of  salt  or  sugar  where  it  was  not  sup- 
posed to  be,  would  have  sickened  a  well  person.  One 
day  George  came  in  from  school  and  saw  a  bowl  of  broth 
sitting  on  a  chair  beside  Kate's  bed. 

"Can't  you  drink  it?"  he  asked.  "Do,  if  you  possibly 
can,"  he  urged.     "You'll  get  so  weak  you'll  be  helpless.'* 

"I  just  can't,"  said  Kate.  "Things  have  such  a  sick- 
ening, sweetish  taste,  or  they  are  bitter,  or  sour;  not  a 
thing  is  as  it  used  to  be.     I  simply  can't!" 

A  curious  look  crept  over  George's  face.  He  picked 
up  the  bowl  and  tasted  the  contents.  Instantly  his  face 
went  black;  he  started  toward  the  kitchen.  Kate  heard 
part  of  what  happened,  but  she  never  lifted  her  head. 
After  awhile  he  came  back  with  more  broth  and  a  plate 
of  delicate  toast. 

"Try  this,"  he  said.     "I  made  it  myself." 

Kate  ate  ravenously. 

"That's  good!"  she  cried. 

"I'll  tell  you  what  I'm  going  to  do,"  he  said.  "I'm 
going  to  take  you  out  to  Aunt  Ollie's  for  a  week  after 
school  to-night.     Want  to  go?" 

"Yes!    Oh,  yes!"  cried  Kate. 

"All  right,"  he  said.  "I  know  where  I  can  borrow  a  rig 
for  an  hour.  Get  ready  if  you  are  well  enough,  if  you  are 
not,  I'll  help  you  after  school." 


STARTING  MARRIED  LIFE  225 

That  week  with  Aunt  Ollie  remained  a  bright  spot  in 
Kate's  memory.  The  October  days  were  beginning  to  be 
crisp  and  cool.  Food  was  different.  She  could  sleep, 
she  could  eat  many  things  Aunt  Ollie  knew  to  pre- 
pare especially;  soon  she  could  walk  and  be  outdoors. 
She  was  so  much  better  she  wrote  George  a  note,  asking 
him  to  walk  out  and  bring  her  sewing  basket,  and  some 
goods  she  listed,  and  in  the  afternoons  the  two  women 
cut  and  sewed  quaint,  enticing  little  garments.  George 
found  Kate  so  much  better  when  he  came  that  he  pro- 
posed she  remain  another  week.  Then  for  the  first  time 
he  talked  to  her  about  her  theory  of  government  and 
teaching,  until  she  realized  that  the  School  Director  had 
told  him  he  was  dissatisfied  with  him — so  George  was  try- 
ing to  learn  her  ways.  Appalled  at  what  might  happen 
if  he  lost  the  school,  Kate  made  notes,  talked  at  length, 
begged  him  to  do  his  best,  and  to  come  at  once  if  any- 
thing went  wrong.  He  did  come,  and  brought  the  school 
books  so  she  went  over  the  lessons  with  him,  and  made 
marginal  notes  of  things  suggested  to  her  mind  by  the 
text,  for  him  to  discuss  and  elucidate.  The  next  time  he 
came,  he  was  in  such  good  spirits  she  knew  his  work  had 
been  praised,  so  after  that  they  went  over  the  lessons  to- 
gether each  evening.  Thinking  of  what  would  help  him 
also  helped  fill  her  day. 

He  took  her  home,  greatly  improved,  in  much  better 
spirits,  to  her  room,  cleaned  and  ready  for  winter,  with 
all  of  her  things  possible  to  use  in  place,  so  that  it  was 
much  changed,  prettier,  and  more  convenient.     As  they 


226  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

drove  in  she  said  to  him:  "George,  what  about  it?  Did 
your  mother  purposely  fix  my  food  so  I  could  not  eat  it?" 

"Oh,  I  wouldn't  say  that,"  he  said.  "You  know 
neither  of  you  is  violently  attached  to  the  other.  She'll 
be  more  careful  after  this,  I'm  sure  she  will." 

"Why,  have  you  been  sick?"  asked  Kate  as  soon  as  she 
saw  Mrs.  Holt. 

She  seemed  so  nervous  and  appeared  so  badly  Kate 
was  sorry  for  her;  but  she  could  not  help  noticing  how  she 
kept  watch  on  her  son.  She  seemed  to  keep  the  width 
of  the  room  and  a  piece  of  furniture  between  them,  while 
her  cooking  was  so  different  that  it  was  not  in  the  least 
necessary  for  George  to  fix  things  for  Kate  himself,  as  he 
had  suggested.  Everything  was  so  improved,  Kate  felt 
better.  She  began  to  sew,  to  read,  to  sit  for  long  periods  in 
profound  thought,  then  to  take  walks  that  brought  back 
her  strength  and  colour.  So  through  the  winter  and 
toward  the  approach  of  spring  they  lived  in  greater  comfort. 
With  Kate's  help,  George  was  doing  so  well  with  the  school 
that  he  was  frequently  complimented  by  the  parents. 
That  he  was  trying  to  do  good  work  and  win  the  approval 
of  both  pupils  and  parents  was  evident  to  Kate.  Once  he 
said  to  her  that  he  wondered  if  it  would  be  a  good  thing  for 
him  to  put  in  an  application  for  the  school  the  coming 
winter.  Kate  stared  at  him  in  surprise:  "But  your  pro- 
fession," she  objected.  "You  should  be  in  your  office  and 
having  enough  practice  to  support  us  by  then." 

"Yes,  I  should!"  he  said.  "But  this  is  a  new  thing, 
and  you  know  how  these  clodhoppers  are." 


STARTING  MARRIED  LIFE  227 

"If  I  came  as  near  living  in  the  country,  and  worked 
at  farming  as  much  as  you  do,  that's  the  last  thing  I 
would  call  any  human  being,"  said  Kate.  "I  certainly 
do  know  how  they  are,  and  what  I  know  convinces  me 
that  you  need  not  look  to  them  for  any  patients." 

"You  seem  to  think  I  won't  have  any  from  any  source," 
he  said  hotly. 

"  I  confess  myself  dubious,"  said  Kate.  "You  certainly 
are,  or  you  wouldn't  be  talking  of  teaching." 

"Well,  I'll  just  show  you!"  he  cried. 

"I'm  waiting,"  said  Kate.  "But  as  we  must  live  in 
the  meantime,  and  it  will  be  so  long  before  I  can  earn 
anything  again,  and  so  much  expense,  possibly  it  would 
be  a  good  idea  to  have  the  school  to  fall  back  on,  if  you 
shouldn't  have  the  patients  you  hope  for  this  summer. 
I  think  you  have  done  well  with  the  school.  Do  your 
level  best  until  the  term  closes,  and  you  may  have  a 
chance." 

Laughing  scornfully,  he  repeated  his  old  boast:  "I'll 
just  show  you!" 

"Go  ahead,"  said  Kate.  "And  while  you  are  at  it,  be 
generous.  Show  me  plenty.  But  in  the  meantime,  save 
every  penny  you  can,  so  you'll  be  ready  to  pay  the  doc- 
tor's bills  and  furnish  your  office." 

"I  love  your  advice;  it's  so  Batesy,"  he  said.  "I  have 
money  saved  for  both  contingencies  you  mention,  but  I'll 
tell  you  what  I  think,  and  about  this  I'm  the  one  who 
knows.  I've  told  you  repeatedly  winter  is  my  best  time. 
I've  lost  the  winter  trying  to  help  you  out;  and  I've  little 


228  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

chance  until  winter  comes  again.  It  takes  cold  weather 
to  make  folks  feel  what  ails  their  muscles,  and  my  treat- 
ment is  mostly  muscular.  To  save  so  we  can  get  a  real 
start,  wouldn't  it  be  a  good  idea  for  you  to  put  part  of 
your  things  in  my  room,  take  what  you  must  have,  and 
fix  Mother's  bedroom  for  you,  let  her  move  her  bed  into 
her  living  room,  and  spare  me  all  you  can  of  your  things 
to  fix  up  your  room  for  my  office  this  summer.  That 
would  save  rent,  it's  only  a  few  steps  from  downtown,  and 
when  I  wasn't  busy  with  patients,  I  could  be  handy  to  the 
garden,  and  to  help  you." 

"If  your  mother  is  willing,  I'll  do  my  share,"  said 
Kate,  "although  the  room's  cramped,  and  where  I'll  put 
the  small  party  when  he  comes  I  don't  know,  but  I'll 
manage  someway.  The  big  objection  to  it  is  that  it  will 
make  it  look  to  people  as  if  it  were  a  makeshift,  instead 
of  starting  a  real  business." 

"Real,"  was  the  wrong  word.  It  was  the  red  rag  that 
started  George  raging,  until  to  save  her  self-respect,  Kate 
left  the  room.  Later  in  the  day  he  announced  that  his 
mother  was  willing,  she  would  clean  the  living  room  and 
move  in  that  day.  How  Kate  hated  the  tiny  room  with 
its  one  exterior  wall,  only  one  small  window,  its  scratched 
woodwork,  and  soiled  paper,  she  could  not  say.  She  felt 
physically  ill  when  she  thought  of  it,  and  when  she 
thought  of  the  heat  of  the  coming  summer,  she  wondered 
what  she  would  do;  but  all  she  could  do  was  to  acquiesce. 
She  made  a  trip  downtown  and  bought  a  quart  of  white 
paint  and  a  few  rolls  of  dainty,  fresh  paper.    She  made  her 


STARTING  MARRIED  LIFE  229 

self  ill  with  turpentine  odours  in  giving  the  woodwork 
three  coats,  and  fell  from  a  table  almost  killing  herself 
while  papering  the  ceiling.  There  was  no  room  for  her 
trunk;  the  closet  would  not  hold  half  her  clothes;  her  only 
easy  chair  was  crowded  out;  she  was  sheared  of  personal 
comfort  at  a  clip,  just  at  a  time  when  every  comfort  should 
have  been  hers.  George  ordered  an  operating  table,  on 
which  to  massage  his  patients,  a  few  other  necessaries, 
and  in  high  spirits,  went  about  fixing  up  his  office  and 
finishing  his  school.  He  spent  hours  in  the  woodshed 
with  the  remainder  of  Kate's  white  paint,  making  a  sign 
to  hang  in  front  of  the  house. 

He  was  so  pathetically  anxious  for  a  patient,  after  he 
had  put  his  table  in  place,  hung  up  his  sign,  and  paid 
for  an  announcement  in  the  county  paper  and  the  little 
Walden  sheet,  that  Kate  was  sorry  for  him. 

On  a  hot  July  morning  Mrs.  Holt  was  sweeping  the 
front  porch  when  a  forlorn  specimen  of  humanity  came 
shuffling  up  the  front  walk  and  asked  to  see  Dr.  Holt. 
Mrs.  Holt  took  him  into  the  office  and  ran  to  the  garden 
to  tell  George  his  first  patient  had  come.  His  face  had 
been  flushed  from  pulling  weeds,  but  it  paled  perceptibly 
as  he  started  to  the  back  porch  to  wash  his  hands. 

"Do  you  know  who  it  is,  Mother?"  he  asked. 

"It's  that  old  Peter  Mines,"  she  said,  "an'  he  looks 
fit  to  drop." 

"Peter  Mines!"  said  George.  "He's  had  about  fifty 
things  the  matter  with  him  for  about  fifty  years." 

"Then  you're  a  made  man  if  you  can  even  make  him 


230  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

think  he  feels  enough  better  so's  he'll  go  round  talking 
about  it,"  said  Mrs.  Holt,  shrewdly. 

George  stood  with  his  hands  dripping  water  an  instant, 
thinking  deeply. 

"Well  said  for  once,  old  lady,"  he  agreed.  "You  are 
just  exactly  right." 

He  hurried  to  his  room,  and  put  on  his  coat. 

"A  patient  that  will  be  a  big  boom  for  me,"  he  boasted 
to  Kate  as  he  went  down  the  hall. 

Mrs.  Holt  stood  listening  at  the  hall  door.  Kate  walked 
around  the  dining  room,  trying  to  occupy  herself.  Pres- 
ently cringing  groans  began  to  come  from  the  room, 
mingled  with  George's  deep  voice  explaining,  and  trying 
to  encourage  the  man.  Then  came  a  wild  shriek  and  then 
silence.  Kate  hurried  out  to  the  back  walk  and  began 
pacing  up  and  down  in  the  sunshine.  She  did  not  know 
it,  but  she  was  praying. 

A  minute  later  George's  pallid  face  appeared  at  the 
back  door:  "You  come  in  here  quick  and  help  me,"  he 
demanded. 

"What's  the  matter?"  asked  Kate. 

"He's  fainted.  His  heart,  I  think.  He's  got  every- 
thing that  ever  ailed  a  man!"  he  said. 

"Oh,  George,  you  shouldn't  have  touched  him,"  said 
Kate. 

"Can't  you  see  it  will  make  me,  if  I  can  help  him! 
Even  Mother  could  see  that,"  he  cried. 

"But  if  his  heart  is  bad,  the  risk  of  massaging  him  is 
awful,"  said  Kate  as  she  hurried  after  George. 


STARTING  MARRIED  LIFE  231 

Kate  looked  at  the  man  on  the  table,  ran  her  hand 
over  the  heart  region,  and  lifted  terrified  eyes  to  George. 

"Do  you  think ?"  he  stammered. 

"Sure  of  it!"  she  said,  "but  we  can  try.  Bring 
your  camphor  bottle,  and  some  water,"  she  cried  to  Mrs. 
Holt. 

For  a  few  minutes,  they  worked  frantically.  Then 
Kate  stepped  back.  "I'm  scared,  and  I  don't  care  who 
knows  it,"  she  said.     "I'm  going  after  Dr.  James." 

"No,  you  are  not!"  cried  George.  "You  just  hold 
yourself.  I'll  have  him  out  in  a  minute.  Begin  at  his 
feet  and  rub  the  blood  up  to  his  heart." 

"They  are  swollen  to  a  puff,  he's  got  no  circulation," 
said  Kate.  "Oh,  George,  how  could  you  ever  hope  to  do 
anything  for  a  man  in  this  shape,  with  muscular  treat- 
ment?" 

"You  keep  still  and  rub,  for  God's  sake,"  he  cried, 
frantically.  "Can't  you  see  that  I  am  ruined  if  he  dies 
on  this  table?" 

"No,  I  can't,"  said  Kate.  "Everybody  would  know 
that  he  was  practically  dying  when  he  came  here.  No- 
body will  blame  you,  only,  you  never  should  have 
touched  him!     George,  I  am  going  after  Dr.  James." 

"Well,  go  then,"  he  said  wildly. 

Kate  started.     Mrs.  Holt  blocked  the  doorway. 

"You  just  stop,  Missy!"  she  cried.  "You're  away  too 
smart,  trying  to  get  folks  in  here,  and  ruin  my  George's 
chances.  You  just  stay  where  you  are  till  I  think  what  to 
do,  to  put  the  best  face  on  this!" 


232  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

"He  may  not  be  really  gone!  The  doctor  might  save 
him!"  cried  Kate. 

Mrs.  Holt  looked  long  at  the  man. 

"He's  deader  'an  a  doornail,"  she  said.  "You  stay 
where  you  are!" 

Kate  picked  her  up  by  the  shoulders,  set  her  to  one 
side,  ran  from  the  room  and  down  the  street  as  fast  as 
possible.  She  found  the  doctor  in  his  office  with  two 
patients.     She  had  no  time  to  think  or  temporize. 

"Get  your  case  and  come  to  our  house  quick,  doctor," 
she  cried.  "An  old  man  they  call  Peter  Mines  came  to 
see  George,  and  his  heart  has  failed.     Please  hurry!" 

"Heart,  eh?"  said  the  doctor.  "Well,  wait  a  minute. 
No  use  to  go  about  a  bad  heart  without  digitalis." 

He  got  up  and  put  on  his  hat,  told  the  men  he  would 
be  back  soon,  and  went  to  the  nearest  drug  store.  Kate 
followed.  The  men  who  had  been  in  the  office  came 
also. 

"Doctor,  hurry!"  she  panted.    "I'm  so  frightened." 

"You  go  to  some  of  the  neighbours,  and  stay  away 
from  there,"  he  said. 

"Hurry!"  begged  Kate.    "Oh,  do  hurry!" 

She  was  beside  him  as  they  sped  down  the  street,  and 
at  his  shoulder  as  they  entered  the  room.  With  one 
glance  she  lurched  against  the  casing  and  then  she  plunged 
down  the  hall,  entered  her  room,  closed  the  door  be- 
hind her,  and  threw  herself  on  the  bed.  She  had 
only  a  glance,  but  in  that  glance  she  had  seen  Peter 
Mines  sitting  fully  clothed,  his  hat  on  his  head,  his  stick 


STARTING  MARRIED  LIFE  233 

in  his  hands,  in  her  easy  chair;  the  operating  table  folded 
and  standing  against  the  wall;  Mrs.  Holt  holding  the 
camphor  bottle  to  Peter's  nose,  while  George  had  one 
hand  over  Peter's  heart,  the  other  steadying  his  head. 

The  doctor  swung  the  table  in  place,  and  with  George's 
help  laid  Peter  on  it,  then  began  tearing  open  his  clothes. 
As  they  worked  the  two  men  followed  into  the  house  to 
see  if  they  could  do  anything  and  excited  neighbours  began 
to  gather.  George  and  his  mother  explained  how  Peter  had 
exhausted  himself  walking  two  miles  from  the  country  that 
hot  morning,  how  he  had  entered  the  office,  tottering  with 
fatigue,  and  had  fallen  in  the  chair  in  a  fainting  condi- 
tion. Everything  was  plausible  until  a  neighbour  woman, 
eager  to  be  the  centre  of  attraction  for  a  second,  cried: 
"Yes,  we  all  see  him  come  more'n  an  hour  ago;  and 
when  he  begin  to  let  out  the  yells  we  says  to  each  other, 
'There  !  George  has  got  his  first  patient,  sure!'  An'  we 
all  kind  of  waited  to  see  if  he'd  come  out  better." 

The  doctor  looked  at  her  sharply:  "More  than  an  hour 
ago?"  he  said.    "You  heard  cries?" 

"Yes,  more'n  a  good  hour  ago.  Yes,  we  all  heard  him 
yell,  jist  once,  good  and  loud!"  she  said. 

The  doctor  turned  to  George.  Before  he  could  speak 
his  mother  intervened. 

"That  was  our  Kate  done  the  yellin',"  she  said.  "She 
was  scart  crazy  from  the  start.  He  jest  come  in,  and  set 
in  the  chair,  and  he's  been  there  ever  since." 

"You  didn't  give  him  any  treatment,  Holt?"  asked 
the  doctor 


234  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

Again  Mrs.  Holt  answered:  "Never  touched  him! 
Hadn't  even  got  time -to  get  his  table  open.  Wa'n't 
nothing  he  could  'a'  done  for  him  anyway.  Peter  was 
good  as  gone  when  he  got  here.  His  fool  folks  never 
ought  'a'  let  him  out  this  hot  day,  sick  as  he  was." 

The  doctor  looked  at  George,  at  his  mother,  long  at 
Peter.  "He  surely  was  too  sick  to  walk  that  far  in  this 
heat,"  he  said.  "But  to  make  sure,  I'll  look  him  over. 
George,  you  help  me.  Clear  the  room  of  all  but  these 
two  men." 

He  began  minutely  examining  Peter's  heart  region. 
Then  he  rolled  him  over  and  started  to  compress  his 
lungs.  Long  white  streaks  marked  the  puffy  red  of  the 
swollen,  dropsical  flesh.  The  doctor  examined  the  length 
of  the  body,  and  looked  straight  into  George  Holt's  eyes. 

"No  use,"  he  said.  "Bill,  go  to  the  'phone  in  my 
office,  and  tell  Coroner  Smith  to  get  here  from  Hartley 
as  soon  as  he  can.  All  that's  left  to  do  here  is  to  obey 
the  law,  and  have  a  funeral.  Better  some  of  the  rest  of 
you  go  tell  his  folks.  I've  done  all  I  can  do.  It's  up  to 
the  Coroner  now.  The  rest  of  you  go  home,  and  keep 
still  till  he  comes." 

When  he  and  George  were  left  alone  he  said  tersely: 
"Of  course  you  and  your  mother  are  lying.  You  had 
this  man  stripped,  he  did  cry  out,  and  he  did  die  from  the 
pain  of  the  treatment  you  tried  to  give  him,  in  his  con- 
dition. By  the  way,  where's  your  wife?  This  is  a  bad 
thing  for  her  right  now.  Come,  let's  find  her  and  see 
what  state  she  is  in." 


STARTING  MARRIED  LIFE  235 

Together  they  left  the  room  and  entered  Kate's  door. 
As.  soon  as  the  doctor  was  busy  with  her,  George  slipped 
back  into  the  closed  room,  rolled  Peter  on  his  back  and 
covered  him,  in  the  hope  that  the  blood  would  settle 
until  it  would  efface  the  marks  of  his  work  before  the 
Coroner  arrived.  By  that  time  the  doctor  was  too  busy 
to  care  much  what  happened  to  Peter  Mines;  he  was  a 
poor  old  soul  better  off  as  he  was.  Across  Kate's  un- 
conscious body  he  said  to  George  Holt:  "I'm  going  to 
let  the  Coroner  make  what  he  pleases  out  of  this,  solely 
for  your  wife's  sake.  But  two  things:  take  down  that 
shingle.  Take  it  down  now,  and  never  put  it  up  again 
if  you  want  me  to  keep  still.  I'll  give  you  what  you  paid 
for  that  table.  It's  a  good  one.  Get  him  out  as  soon  as 
you  can.  Set  him  in  another  room.  I've  got  to  have 
Mrs.  Holt  where  I  can  work.  And  send  Sarah  Nepple 
here  to  help  me.  Move  fast!  This  is  going  to  be  a  close 
call.  And  the  other  thing:  I've  heard  you  put  in  an 
application  for  our  school  this  winter.  Withdraw  it! 
Now  move!" 

So  they  set  Peter  in  the  living  room,  cleaned  Kate's 
room  quickly,  and  moved  in  her  bed.  By  the  time  the 
Coroner  arrived,  the  doctor  was  too  busy  to  care  what 
happened.  On  oath  he  said  a  few  words  that  he  hoped 
would  make  life  easier  for  Kate,  and  at  the  same  time 
pass  muster  for  truth;  told  the  Coroner  what  witnesses  to 
call;  and  gave  an  opinion  as  to  Peter's  condition.  He 
also  added  that  he  was  sure  Peter's  family  would  be  very 
glad  he  was  to  suffer  no  more,  and  then  he  went  back  to 


236  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

Kate  who  was  suffering  entirely  too  much  for  safety. 
Then  began  a  long  vigil  that  ended  at  midnight  with 
Kate  barely  alive  and  Sarah  Nepple,  the  Waldenfmid- 
wife,  trying  to  divide  a  scanty  wardrobe  between  a  pair 
of  lusty  twins. 


CHAPTER  XV 

A  New  Idea 

KATE  slowly  came  back  to  consciousness.  She  was 
conscious  of  her  body,  sore  from  head  to  foot, 
.  with  plenty  of  pain  in  definite  spots.  Her  first 
clear  thought  was  that  she  was  such  a  big  woman;  it 
seemed  to  her  that  she  filled  the  rccm,  when  she  was 
one  bruised  ache  from  head  to  hciis.  Then  she  became 
conscious  of  a  moving  bundle  on  the  bed  beside  her,  and 
laid  her  hand  on  it  to  reassure  herself.  The  size  and 
shape  of  the  bundle  were  not  reassuring. 

"Oh,  Lord!"  groaned  Kate.  "Haven't  You  any  mercy 
at  all?  It  was  Your  advice  I  followed  when  I  took  wing 
and  started  out  in  life." 

A  big  sob  arose  in  her  throat,  while  at  the  same  time 
she  began  to  laugh  weakly.  Dr.  James  heard  her  from 
the  hall  and  entered  hastily.  At  sight  of  him,  Kate's 
eyes  filled  with  terrified  remembrance.  Her  glance  swept 
the  room,  and  rested  on  her  rocking  chair. 

"Take  that  out  of  here!"  she  cried.  "Take  it  out, 
split  it  into  kindling  wood,  and  burn  it." 

"All  right,"  said  Dr.  James  calmly.  "I'll  guarantee 
•that  you  never  see  it  again.  Is  there  anything  else  you 
want  ? " 

237 


238  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

"You— you  didn't ?" 

The  doctor  shook  his  head.  "Very  sorry,"  he  said^ 
"but  there  wasn't  a  thing  could  be  done." 

"Where  is  he?"  she  asked  in  a  whisper. 

"His  people  took  him  home  immediately  after  the 
Coroner's  inquest,  which  found  that  he  died  from  heart 
failure,  brought  on  by  his  long  walk  in  the  heat." 

Kate  stared  at  him  with  a  face  pitiful  to  behold. 

"You  let  him  think  that .?"  she  whispered  again. 

"I  did,"  said  the  old  doctor.  "I  thought,  and  still 
think,  that  for  the  sake  of  you  and  yours,"  he  waved 
toward  the  bundle,  "it  was  the  only  course  to  pursue." 

"Thank  you,"  said  Kate.  "You're  very  kind.  But 
don't  you  think  that  I  and  mine  are  going  to  take  a  lot 
of  shielding?  The  next  man  may  not  be  so  kindly  dis- 
posed.   Besides,  is  it  right?    Is  it  honest?" 

"It  is  for  you,"  said  the  doctor.  "You  had  nothing 
to  do  with  it.  If  you  had,  things  would  not  have  gone  as 
they  did.  As  for  me,  I  feel  perfectly  comfortable  about 
it  in  my  conscience,  which  is  my  best  guide.  All  I  had 
to  do  was  to  let  them  tell  their  story.  I  perjured  myself 
only  to  the  extent  of  testifying  that  you  knew  nothing 
about  it.  The  Coroner  could  well  believe  that.  George 
and  his  mother  could  easily  manage  the  remainder." 

Kate  waved  toward  the  bundle.  "Am  I  supposed  to 
welcome  and  love  them?" 

"A  poet  might  expect  you  to,"  said  the  doctor.  "In 
the  circumstances,  I  do  not.  I  shall  feel  that  you  have 
done  vour  whole  duty  if  you  will  try  to  nurse  them  when 


A  NEW  IDEA  239 

the  time  comes.  You  must  have  a  long  rest,  and  they 
must  grow  some  before  you'll  discover  what  they  mean 
to  you.  There's  always  as  much  chance  that  they'll 
resemble  your  people  as  that  they  will  not.  The  boy 
will  have  dark  hair  and  eyes  I  think,  but  he  looks  exactly 
like  you.     The  girl  is  more  Holt." 

"Where  is  George?"  she  asked. 

"He  was  completely  upset,"  said  the  doctor.  "I 
suggested  that  he  go  somewhere  to  rest  up  a  few  days, 
so  he  took  his  tackle  and  went  fishing,  and  to  the  farm." 

"Shouldn't  he  have  stayed  and  faced  it?"  asked  Kate. 

"There  was  nothing  for  him  to  face,  except  himself, 
Kate,"  said  the  doctor. 

Kate  shook  her  head.     She  looked  ghastly  ill. 

"Doctor,"  she  said,  "couldn't  you  have  let  me  die?" 

"And  left  your  son  and  your  little  daughter  to  them?" 
he  asked.  "No,  Kate,  I  couldn't  have  let  you  die;  be- 
cause you've  your  work  in  the  world  under  your  hand 
right  now." 

He  said  that  because  when  he  said  "left  your  son  and 
your  little  daughter  to  them,"  Kate  had  reached  over  and 
laid  her  hand  possessively,  defensively,  on  the  little, 
squirming  bundle,  which  was  all  Dr.  James  asked  of 
her.  Presently  she  looked  the  doctor  straight  in  the  face. 
"Exactly  what  do  you  know?"  she  asked. 

"Everything,"  said  the  doctor.     "And  you?" 

"Everything,"  said  Kate. 

There  was  a  long  silence.  Then  Kate  spoke  slowly: 
"That    George    didn't    know    that    he    shouldn't    have 


24o  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

touched  that  man,  proves  him  completely  incompetent," 
she  said.  "That  he  did,  and  didn't  have  the  courage  to 
face  the  results,  proves  him  lacking  in  principle.  He's 
not  fit  for  either  work  to  which  he  aspires." 

"You  are  talking  too  much,"  said  the  doctor.  "Nurse 
Nepple  is  in  charge  here,  and  Aunt  Ollie.  George's 
mother  went  to  the  farm  to  cook  for  him,  You're  in 
the  hands  of  two  fine  women,  who  will  make  you 
comfortable.  You  have  escaped  lasting  disgrace  with 
your  skirts  clear,  now  rest  and  be  thankful." 

"I  can't  rest  until  I  know  one  thing,"  said  Kate. 
"You're  not  going  to  allow  George  to  kill  any  one  else?" 

"No,"  said  the  doctor.  "I  regretted  telling  him  very 
much;  but  I  had  to  tell  him  that  could  not  happen." 

"And  about  the  school?"  she  asked.  "I  half  thought 
he  might  get  it." 

"He  won't!"  said  the  doctor.  "I'm  in  a  position  to 
know  that.    Now  try  to  take  some  rest." 

Kate  waved  toward  the  babies:  "Will  you  please 
take  them  away  until  they  need  me?"  she  asked. 

"Of  course,"  said  the  doctor.  "But  don't  you  want  to 
see  them,  Kate?  There  isn't  a  mark  or  blemish  on 
either  of  them.  The  boy  weighs  seven  pounds  and  the 
girl  six;  they  seem  as  perfect  as  children  can  be." 

"You  needn't  worry  about  that,"  said  Kate.  "Twins 
are  a  Bates  habit.  My  mother  had  three  pairs,  always 
a  boy  and  girl,  always  big  and  sound  as  any  children; 
mine  will  be  all  right,  too." 

The  doctor  started  to  turn  back  the  blanket.     Kate 


A  NEW  IDEA  241 

turned  her  head  away:  "Don't  you  think  I  have  had 
about  enough  at  present?"  she  asked.  "I'd  stake  my 
life  that  as  a  little  further  piece  of  my  punishment,  the 
girl  looks  exactly  like  Mrs.  Holt." 

"By  Jove,"  said  the  doctor,  "I  couldn't  just  think 
who  it  was." 

He  carried  the  babies  from  the  room,  lowered  the 
blinds,  and  Kate  tried  to  sleep,  and  did  sleep,  because  she 
was  so  exhausted  she  could  not  keep  awake. 

Later  in  the  evening  Aunt  Ollie  slipped  in,  and  said 
George  was  in  the  woodhouse,  almost  crying  himself  to 
death,  and  begging  to  see  her. 

"You  tell  him  I'm  too  sick  to  be  seen  for  at  least  a 
week,"  said  Kate. 

"But,  my  dear,  he's  so  broken  up;  he  feels  so  badly," 
begged  Aunt  Ollie. 

"So  do  I,"  said  Kate.  "I  feel  entirely  too  badly  to  be 
worried  over  seeing  him.     I  must  take  the  babies  now." 

"I  do  wish  you  would!"  persisted  Aunt  Ollie. 

"Well,  I  won't,"  said  Kate.  "I  don't  care  if  I  never 
see  him  again.    He  knows  why  he  is  crying;  ask  him." 

"I'll  wager  they  ain't  a  word  of  truth  in  that  tale 
they're  telling,"  she  said. 

Kate  looked  straight  at  her:  "Well,  for  their  sakes 
and  my  sake,  and  the  babies'  sakes,  don't  talk  about  it." 

"You  poor  thing!"  said  Aunt  Ollie,  "I'll  do  anything 
in  the  world  to  help  you.  If  ever  you  need  me,  just  call 
on  me.    I'll  go  start  him  back  in  a  hurry." 

He  came  every  night,  but  Kate  steadily  refused,  until 


242  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

she  felt  able  to  sit  up  in  a  chair,  to  see  him,  or  his  mother 
when  she  came  to  see  the  babies.  She  had  recovered 
rapidly,  was  over  the  painful  part  of  nursing  the  babies, 
and  had  a  long  talk  with  Aunt  Ollie,  before  she  con- 
sented to  see  George.  At  times  she  thought  she  never 
could  see  him  again;  at  others,  she  realized  her  helpless- 
ness. She  had  her  babies  to  nurse  for  a  year;  there  was 
nothing  she  could  think  of  she  knew  to  do,  that  she  could 
do,  and  take  proper  care  of  two  children.  She  was  tied 
"hand  and  foot,"  as  Aunt  Ollie  said.  And  yet  it  was 
Aunt  Ollie  who  solved  her  problem  for  her.  Sitting  be- 
side the  bed  one  day  she  said  to  Kate:  "My  dear,  do 
you  know  that  I'm  having  a  mighty  good  time?  I  guess 
I  was  lonesomer  than  I  thought  out  there  all  alone  so 
much,  and  the  work  was  nigh  to  breaking  me  during  the 
long,  cold  winter.  I  got  a  big  notion  to  propose  somepin' 
to  you  that  might  be  a  comfort  to  all  of  us." 

"Propose  ahead,"  said  Kate.    "I'm  at  my  wits'  end/' 

"Well,  what  would  you  think  of  you  and  George  taking 
the  land,  working  it  on  the  shares,  and  letting  me  have 
this  room,  an*  live  in  Walden,  awhile?" 

Kate  sat  straight  up  in  bed:  "Oh,  Aunt  Ollie!  Would 
you?"  she  cried.  "Would  you?  That  would  be  a  mercy 
to  me;  it  would  give  George  every  chance  to  go  straight, 
if  there  is  a  straight  impulse  in  him." 

"Yes,  I  will,"  said  Aunt  Ollie,  "and  you  needn't  feel 
that  I  am  getting  the  little  end  of  the  bargain,  either. 
The  only  unpleasant  thing  about  it  will  be  my  sister,  and 
I'll  undertake  to  manage  her.    I  read  a  lot,  an'  I  can  always 


A  NEW  IDEA  243 

come  to  see  you  when  mortal  sperrits  will  bear  her  no 
more.     She'll  be  no  such  trial  to  me,  as  she  is  to  you." 

"You're  an  angel,"  said  Kate.  "You've  given  me 
hope  where  I  had  not  a  glimmer.  If  I  have  George  out 
there  alone,  away  from  his  mother,  I  can  bring  out  all 
the  good  there  is  in  him,  and  we  can  get  some  results  out 
of  life,  or  I  can  assure  myself  that  it  is  impossible,  so 
that  I  can  quit  with  a  clear  conscience.    I  do  thank  you." 

"All  right,  then,  I'll  go  out  and  begin  packing  my 
things,  and  see  about  moving  this  afternoon.  I'll  leave 
my  stoves,  and  beds,  and  tables,  and  chairs  for  you; 
you  can  use  your  wedding  things,  and  be  downright 
comfortable.     I'll  like  living  in  town  a  spell  real  well." 

So  once  more  Kate  saw  hope  a  beckoning  star  in  the 
distance,  and  ruffled  the  wings  of  the  spirit  preparatory  to 
another  flight:  only  a  short,  humble  flight  this  time, 
close  earth;  but  still  as  full  of  promise  as  life  seemed  to 
hold  in  any  direction  for  her.  She  greeted  George  cas- 
ually, and  as  if  nothing  had  happened,  when  she  was 
ready  to  see  him. 

"You're  at  the  place  where  words  are  not  of  the  slight- 
est use  to  me,"  she  said.  "I'm  giving  you  one,  and  a 
final  chance  to  act.  This  seems  all  that  is  open  to  us. 
Go  to  work  like  a  man,  and  we  will  see  what  we  can  make 
of  our  last  chance." 

Kate  was  so  glad  when  she  sat  in  the  carriage  that 
was  to  take  her  from  the  house  and  the  woman  she 
abominated  that  she  could  scarcely  behave  properly. 
She     clasped    Adam    tightly     in    her    arms,     and     felt 


244  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

truly  his  mother.  She  reached  over  and  tucked  the 
blanket  closer  over  Polly,  but  she  did  not  carry  her, 
because  she  resembled  her  grandmother,  while  Adam  was 
a  Bates. 

George  drove  carefully.  He  was  on  behaviour  too  good 
to  last,  but  fortunately  both  women  with  him  knew  him 
well  enough  not  to  expect  that  it  would.  When  they 
came  in  sight  of  the  house,  Kate  could  see  that  the  grass 
beside  the  road  had  been  cut,  the  trees  trimmed,  and  Oh, 
joy,  the  house  freshly  painted  a  soft,  creamy  white  she 
liked,  with  a  green  roof.  Aunt  Ollie  explained  that  she 
furnished  the  paint  and  George  did  the  work.  He 
had  swung  oblong  clothes  baskets  from  the  ceiling  of  a 
big,  cheery,  old-fashioned  bedroom  for  a  cradle  for 
each  baby,  and  established  himself  in  a  small  back 
room  adjoining  the  kitchen.  Kate  said  nothing  about  the 
arrangement,  because  she  supposed  it  had  been  made  to 
give  her  more  room,  and  that  George  might  sleep  in  peace, 
while  she  wrestled  with  two  tiny  babies. 

There  was  no  doubt  about  the  wrestling.  The  babies 
seemed  of  nervous  temperament,  sleeping  in  short  naps 
and  lightly.  Kate  was  on  her  feet  from  the  time  she 
reached  her  new  home,  working  when  she  should  not  have 
worked;  so  that  the  result  developed  cross  babies,  each 
attacked  with  the  colic,  which  raged  every  night  from  six 
o'clock  until  twelve  and  after,  both  frequently  shrieking  at 
the  same  time.  George  did  his  share  by  going  to  town 
for  a  bottle  of  soothing  syrup,  which  Kate  promptly  threw 
in  the  creek.     Once  he  took  Adam  and  began  walking  the 


A  NEW  IDEA  245 

floor  with  him,  extending  his  activities  as  far  as  the 
kitchen.  In  a  few  minutes  he  had  the  little  fellow  sound 
asleep  and  he  did  not  waken  until  morning;  then  he  seemed 
to  droop  and  feel  listless.  When  he  took  the  baby  the 
second  time  and  made  the  same  trip  to  the  kitchen,  Kate 
laid  Polly  on  her  bed  and  silently  followed.  She  saw 
George  lay  the  baby  on  the  table,  draw  a  flask  from  his 
pocket,  pour  a  spoon  partly  full,  filling  it  the  remainder  of 
the  way  from  the  teakettle.  As  he  was  putting  the  spoon 
to  the  baby's  lips,  Kate  stepped  beside  him  and  taking  it, 
she  tasted  the  contents.  Then  she  threw  the  spoon  into 
the  dishpan  standing  near  and  picked  up  the  baby. 

"I  knew  it!"  she  said.  "Only  I  didn't  know  what. 
He  acted  like  a  drugged  baby  all  last  night  and  to-day. 
Since  when  did  you  begin  carrying  that  stuff  around  with 
you,  and  feeding  it  to  tiny  babies?" 

"It's  a  good  thing.  Dr.  James  recommended  it.  He 
said  it  was  harmful  to  let  them  strain  themselves  crying, 
and  very  hard  on  you.  You  could  save  yourself  a  lot," 
he  urged. 

"I  need  saving  all  right,"  said  Kate,  "but  I  haven't 
a  picture  of  myself  saving  myself  by  drugging  a  pair  of 
tiny  babies." 

He  slipped  the  bottle  back  into  his  pocket.  Kate  stood 
looking  at  him  so  long  and  so  intently,  he  flushed  and  set 
the  flask  on  a  shelf  in  the  pantry.  "It  may  come  in 
handy  some  day  when  some  of  us  have  a  cold,"  he  said. 

Kate  did  her  best,  but  she  was  so  weakened  by  nursing 
both  of  the  babies,  by  loss  of  sleep,  and  overwork  in  the 


246  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

house,  that  she  was  no  help  whatever  to  George  in  getting 
in  the  fall  crops  and  preparing  for  spring.  She  had  lost 
none  of  her  ambition,  but  there  was  a  limit  to  her  ca- 
pacity. 

In  the  spring  the  babies  were  big  and  lusty,  eating  her 
up,  and  crying  with  hunger,  until  she  was  forced  to  resort 
to  artificial  feeding  in  part,  which  did  not  agree  with 
either  of  them.  As  a  saving  of  time  and  trouble  she 
decided  to  nurse  one  and  feed  the  other.  It  was  without 
thought  on  her  part,  almost  by  chance,  yet  the  chance 
was  that  she  nursed  Adam  and  fed  Polly.  Then  the  babies 
began  teething,  so  that  she  was  rushed  to  find  time  to  pre- 
pare three  regular  meals  a  day,  and  as  for  the  garden  and 
poultry  she  had  planned,  George  di  J  what  he  pleased  about 
them,  which  was  little,  if  anything. 

He  would  raise  so  much  to  keep  from  being  hungry, 
he  would  grow  so  many  roots,  and  so  much  cabbage  for 
winter,  he  would  tend  enough  corn  for  a  team  and  to  fat- 
ten pork;  right  there  he  stopped  and  went  fishing,  while 
the  flask  was  in  evidence  on  the  pantry  shelf  only  two  days. 
Kate  talked  crop  rotation,  new  seed,  fertilization,  until 
she  was  weary;  George  heartily  agreed  with  her,  but  put 
nothing  of  it  all  into  practice. 

"As  soon  as  the  babies  are  old  enough  to  be  taken 
out,"  she  said,  "things  will  be  better.  I  just  can't  do 
justice  to  them  and  my  work,  too.  Three  pairs!  My 
poor  mother!     And  she's  alive  yet!     I  marvel  at  it." 

So  they  lived,  and  had  enough  to  eat,  and  were 
clothed,  but  not  one  step  did  they  advance  toward  Kate's 


A  NEW  IDEA  247 

ideals  of  progression,  economy,  accumulation.  George 
always  had  a  little  money,  more  than  she  could  see  how 
he  got  from  the  farming.  There  were  a  few  calves  and 
pigs  to  sell  occasionally;  she  thought  possibly  he  saved 
his  share  from  them. 

For  four  years,  Kate  struggled  valiantly  to  keep  pace 
with  what  her  mother  always  had  done,  and  had  required 
of  her  at  home;  but  she  learned  long  before  she  quit 
struggling  that  farming  with  George  was  hopeless.  So 
at  last  she  became  so  discouraged  she  began  to  drift 
into  his  way  of  doing  merely  what  would  sustain  them, 
and  then  reading,  fishing,  or  sleeping  the  remainder  of 
the  time.  She  began  teaching  the  children  while  very 
small,  and  daily  they  had  their  lessons  after  dinner, 
while  their  father  slept. 

Kate  thought  often  of  what  was  happening  to  her;  she 
hated  it,  she  fought  it;  but  with  George  Holt  for  a  part- 
ner she  could  not  escape  it.  She  lay  awake  nights,  plan- 
ning ways  to  make  a  start  toward  prosperity;  she 
propounded  her  ideas  at  breakfast.  To  save  time  in 
getting  him  early  to  work  she  began  feeding  the  horses 
as  soon  as  she  was  up,  so  that  George  could  go  to  work 
immediately  after  breakfast;  but  she  soon  found  she 
might  as  well  save  her  strength.  He  would  not  start 
to  harness  until  he  had  smoked,  mostly  three  quarters  of 
an  hour.  That  his  neighbours  laughed  at  him  and  got 
ahead  of  him  bothered  him  not  at  all.  All  they  said  and 
all  Kate  said,  went,  as  he  expressed  it,  "in  at  one  ear, 
out  at  the  other." 


248  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

One  day  in  going  around  the  house  Kate  was  suddenly- 
confronted  by  a  thing  she  might  have  seen  for  three 
years,  but  had  not  noticed.  Leading  from  the  path  of 
bare,  hard-beaten  earth  that  ran  around  the  house 
through  the  grass,  was  a  small  forking  path  not  so  wide 
and  well  defined,  yet  a  path,  leading  to  George's  window. 
She  stood  staring  at  it  a  long  time  with  a  thoughtful 
expression  on  her  face. 

That  night  she  did  not  go  to  bed  when  she  wertt  to  her 
room.  Instead  she  slipped  out  into  the  night  and  sitting 
under  a  sheltering  bush  she  watched  that  window.  It 
was  only  a  short  time  until  George  crawled  from  it,  went 
stealthily  to  the  barn,  and  a  few  minutes  later  she  saw  him 
riding  barebacked  on  one  of  the  horses  he  had  bridled, 
down  the  footpath  beside  the  stream  toward  town.  She 
got  up  and  crossing  the  barnyard  shut  the  gate  after  him, 
jand  closed  the  barn  door.  She  went  back  to  the  house  and 
^closed  his  window  and  lighting  a  lamp  set  it  on  his  dresser 
in  front  of  his  small  clock.  His  door  was  open  in  the 
morning  when  she  passed  it  on  her  way  to  the  kitchen, 
so  she  got  breakfast  instead  of  feeding  the  horses.  He 
came  in  slowly,  furtively  watching  her.  She  worked  as 
usual,  saying  no  unpleasant  word.  At  length  he  could 
endure  it  no  longer. 

"Kate,"  he  said,  "I  broke  a  bolt  in  the  plow  yesterday, 
and  I  never  thought  of  it  until  just  as  I  was  getting  into 
bed,  so  to  save  time  I  rode  in  to  Walden  and  got 
another  last  night.  Ain't  I  a  great  old  economist, 
though?" 


A  NEW  IDEA  249 

"You  are  a  great  something,"  she  said.  "'Economist* 
would  scarcely  be  my  name  for  it.  Really,  George,  can't 
you  do  better  than  that?" 

"Better  than  what?"  he  demanded. 

"Better  than  telling  such  palpable  lies,"  she  said. 
"  Better  than  crawling  out  windows  instead  of  using  your 
doors  like  a  man;  better  than  being  the  most  shiftless  far- 
mer of  your  neighbourhood  in  the  daytime,  because  you 
have  spent  most  of  your  nights,  God  and  probably 
all  Walden  know  how.  The  flask  and  ready  money  I 
never  could  understand  give  me  an  inkling." 

"Anything  else?"  he  asked,  sneeringly. 

"Nothing  at  present,"  said  Kate  placidly.  "I  prob- 
ably could  find  plenty,  if  I  spent  even  one  night  in  Walden 
when  you  thought  I  was  asleep." 

"Go  if  you  like,"  he  said.  "If  you  think  I'm  goipg  to 
stay  here,  working  like  a  dog  all  day,  year  in  and  year  out, 
to  support  a  daughter  of  the  richest  man  in  the  county 
and  her  kids,  you  fool  yourself.  If  you  want  more  than 
you  got,  call  on  your  rich  folks  for  it.  If  you  want  to  go 
to  town,  either  night  or  day,  go  for  all  I  care.  Do  what 
you  damn  please;  that's  what  I  am  going  to  do  in  the 
future  and  I'm  glad  you  know  it.  I'm  tired  climbing 
through  windows  and  slinking  like  a  dog.  I'll  come  and 
go  like  other  men  after  this." 

"I  don't  know  what  other  men  you  are  referring  to," 
said  Kate.  "You  have  a  monopoly  of  your  kind  in  this 
neighbourhood;  there  is  none  other  like  you.  You  crawl 
and  slink  as  'to  the  manner  born.' " 


250  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

"Don't  you  go  too  far,"  he  menaced  with  an  ugly  leer. 

"Keep  that  for  your  mother,"  laughed  Kate.  "You 
need  never  try  a  threat  with  me.  I  am  stronger  than  you 
are,  and  you  may  depend  upon  it  I  shall  see  that  my  strength 
never  fails  me  again.  I  know  now  that  you  are  all  Nancy 
Ellen  said  you  were." 

"Well,  if  you  married  me  knowing  it,  what  are  you  going 
to  do  about  it?"  he  sneered. 

"I  didn't  know  it  then.  I  thought  I  knew  you.  I 
thought  she  had  been  misinformed,"  said  Kate,  in  self- 
defence. 

"Well,"  he  said,  insultingly,  "if  you  hadn't  been  in 
such  a  big  hurry,  you  could  soon  have  found  out  all  you 
wanted  to  know.  I  took  advantage  of  it,  but  I  never  did 
understand  your  rush." 

"You  never  will,"  said  Kate. 

Then  she  arose  and  went  to  see  if  the  children  had 
wakened.  All  day  she  was  thinking  so  deeply  she  would 
stumble  over  the  chairs  in  her  preoccupation.  George 
noticed  it,  and  it  frightened  him.  After  supper  he  came 
and  sat  on  the  porch  beside  her. 

"Kate,"  he  said,  "as  usual  you  are  'making  mountains 
out  of  mole  hills.'  It  doesn't  damn  a  fellow  forever  to 
ride  or  walk,  I  almost  always  walk,  into  town  in  the 
evening,  to  see  the  papers  and  have  a  little  visit  with  the 
boys.  Work  all  day  in  a  field  is  mighty  lonesome;  a  man 
has  got  to  have  a  little  change.  I  don't  deny  a  glass  of 
beer  once  in  awhile,  or  a  game  of  cards  with  the  boys 
occasionally;  but  if  you  have  lived  with  me  over  five 


A  NEW  IDEA  251 

years  here,  and  never  suspected  it  before,  it  can't  be  so 
desperately  bad,  can  it?     Come  now,  be  fair!" 

"It's  no  difference  whether  I  am  fair  or  unfair,"  Kate 
said,  wearily.  "It  explains  why  you  simply  will  not 
brace  up,  and  be  a  real  man,  and  do  a  man's  work  in  the 
world,  and  achieve  a  man's  success." 

"Who  can  get  anywhere,  splitting  everything  in 
halves?"  he  demanded. 

"The  most  successful  men  in  this  neighbourhood  got 
their  start  exactly  that  way,"  she  said. 

"Ah,  well,  farming  ain't  my  job,  anyway,"  he  said. 
"I  always  did  hate  it.  I  always  will.  If  I  could  have  a 
little  capital  to  start  with,  I  know  a  trick  that  would 
suit  you,  and  make  us  independent  in  no  time." 

Kate  said  no  wordrand  seeing  she  was  not  going  to, 
he  continued:  "I've  thought  about  this  till  I've  got  it 
all  down  fine,  and  it's  a  great  scheme;  you'll  admit  that, 
even  angry  as  you  are.  It  is  this:  get  enough  together 
to  build  a  saw  mill  on  my  strip  of  ravine.  A  little  damming 
would  make  a  free  water  power  worth  a  fortune.  I 
could  hire  a  good  man  to  run  the  saw  and  do  the  work, 
and  I  could  take  a  horse  and  ride,  or  drive  around  among 
the  farmers  I  know,  and  buy  up  timber  cheaper  than 
most  men  could  get  it.  I  could  just  skin  the  eyes  out  of 
them." 

"  Did  it  ever  occur  to  you  that  you  could  do  better  by 
being  honest?"  asked  Kate,  wearily. 

"Aw,  well,  Smarty!  you  know  I  didn't  mean  that 
literally!"  he  scoffed.    "You  know  I  only  meant  I  could 


252  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

talk,  and  jolly,  and  buy  at  bed-rock  prices;  I  know  where 
to  get  the  timber,  and  the  two  best  mill  men  in  the  country; 
we  are  near  the  railroad;  it's  the  dandiest  scheme  that  ever 
struck  Walden.    What  do  you  think  about  it?" 

"I  think  if  Adam  had  it  he'd  be  rich  from  it  in  ten 
years,"  she  said,  quietly. 

"Then  you  do  think  it's  a  bully  idea,"  he  cried.  "You 
would  try  it  if  we  had  a  chance?" 

"I  might,"  said  Kate. 

"You  know,"  he  cried,  jumping  up  in  excitement,  "I've 
never  mentioned  this  to  a  soul,  but  I've  got  it  all  thought 
out.  Would  you  go  to  see  your  brother  Adam,  and  see 
if  you  could  get  him  to  take  an  interest  for  young  Adam? 
He  could  manage  the  money  himself." 

"I  wouldn't  go  to  a  relative  of  mine  for  a  cent,  even 
if  the  children  were  starving,"  said  Kate.  "Get,  and  keep, 
that  clear  in  your  head." 

"But  you  think  there  is  something  in  it?"  he  persisted. 

"I  know  there  is,"  said  Kate  with  finality.  "In  the 
hands  of  the  right  man,  and  with  the  capital  to  start." 

"Kate,  you  can  be  the  meanest,"  he  said. 

"I  didn't  intend  to  be,  in  this  particular  instance," 
she  said.  "But  honestly,  George,  what  have  I  ever  seen 
of  you  in  the  way  of  financial  success  in  the  past  that 
would  give  me  hope  for  the  future?" 

"I  know  it,"  he  said,  "but  I've  never  struck  exactly 
the  right  thing.  This  is  what  I  could  make  a  success  of, 
and  I  would  make  a  good  big  one,  you  bet!  Kate, 
I'll  not  go  to  town  another  night.    I'll  stop  all  that."    He 


A  NEW  IDEA  253 

drew  the  flask  from  his  pocket  and  smashed  it  against 
the  closest  tree.  "And  I'll  stop  all  there  ever  was  of 
that,  even  to  a  glass  of  beer  on  a  hot  day;  if  you  say  so, 
if  you'll  stand  by  me  this  once  more,  if  I  fail  this  time, 
I'll  never  ask  you  again;  honest  I  won't." 

"If  I  had  money,  I'd  try  it,  keeping  the  building  in 
my  own  name  and  keeping  the  books  myself;  but  I've 
none,  and  no  way  to  get  any,  as  you  know,"  she  said. 
"I  can  see  what  could  be  done,  but  I'm  helpless." 

"Vm  not!"  said  George.  "I've  got  it  all  worked  out. 
You  see  I  was  doing  something  useful  with  my  head,  if 
I  wasn't  always  plowing  as  fast  as  you  thought  I 
should.  If  you'll  back  me,  if  you'll  keep  books,  if  you'll 
handle  the  money  until  she  is  paid  back,  I  know  Aunt 
Ollie  will  sell  enough  of  this  land  to  build  the  mill  and  buy 
the  machinery.  She  could  keep  the  house,  and  orchard, 
and  barn,  and  a  big  enough  piece,  say  forty  acres,  to  live 
on  and  keep  all  of  us  in  grub.  She  and  Mother  could 
move  out  here — she  said  the  other  day  she  was  tired  of 
town  and  getting  homesick — and  we  could  go  to  town  to 
put  the  children  in  school,  and  be  on  the  job.  I  won't 
ever  ask  you  and  Mother  to  live  together  again.  Kate, 
will  you  go  in  with  me?  Will  you  talk  to  Aunt  Ollie? 
Will  you  let  me  show  you,  and  explain,  and  prove  to 
you?" 

"I  won't  be  a  party  to  anything  that  would  even 
remotely  threaten  to  lose  Aunt  Ollie's  money  for  her," 
she  said. 

"She's  got  nobody  on  earth  but  me.     It's  all  mine  in 


254  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

the  end.  Why  not  let  me  have  this  wonderful  chance 
with  it?    Kate,  will  you?'*  he  begged. 

"I'll  think  about  it,"  she  conceded.  "If  I  can  study 
out  a  sure,  honourable  way.  I'll  promise  to  think.  Now 
go  out  there,  and  hunt  the  last  scrap  of  that  glass;  the 
children  may  cut  their  feet  in  the  morning." 

Then  Kate  went  in  to  bed.  If  she  had  looked  from  her 
window,  she  might  have  seen  George  scratching  matches 
and  picking  pieces  of  glass  from  the  grass.  When  he 
came  to  the  bottom  of  the  bottle  with  upstanding,  jagged 
edges,  containing  a  few  drops,  he  glanced  at  her  room, 
saw  that  she  was  undressing  in  the  dark,  and  lifting  it, 
he  poured  the  liquid  on  his  tongue  to  the  last  drop  that 
would  fall. 


CHAPTER  XVI 
The  Work  of  the  Sun 

BEFORE  Kate  awakened  the  following  morning 
George  was  out  feeding  the  horses,  cattle,  and 
chickens,  doing  the  milking,  and  working  like  the 
proverbial  beaver.  By  the  time  breakfast  was  ready, 
he  had  convinced  himself  that  he  was  a  very  exemplary 
man,  while  he  expected  Kate  to  be  convinced  also.  He 
stood  ready  and  willing  to  forgive  her  for  every  mean 
deceit  and  secret  sin  he  ever  had  committed,  or  had  it  in 
his  heart  to  commit  in  the  future.  All  the  world  was 
rosy  with  him,  he  was  flying  with  the  wings  of  hope 
straight  toward  a  wonderful  achievement  that  would 
bring  pleasure  and  riches,  first  to  George  Holt,  then  to  his 
wife  and  children,  then  to  the  old  aunt  he  really  cared 
more  for  than  any  one  else. 

Incidentally,  his  mother  might  have  some  share,  while 
he  would  bring  such  prosperity  and  activity  to  the  village 
that  all  Walden  would  forget  every  bad  thing  it  had  ever 
thought  or  known  of  him,  and  delight  to  pay  him  hon- 
our. Kate  might  have  guessed  all  this  when  she  saw 
the  pails  full  of  milk  on  the  table,  and  heard  George 
whistling  "Hail  the  Conquering  Hero  Comes,"  as  he 
turned  the  cows  into  the  pasture;  but  she  had  not  slept 

255 


256  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

well.  Most  of  the  night  she  had  lain  staring  at  the 
ceiling,  her  brain  busy  with  calculations,  computations, 
most  of  all  with  personal  values. 

She  dared  not  be  a  party  to  anything  that  would  lose 
Aunt  Ollie  her  land;  that  was  settled;  but  if  she  went  into 
the  venture  herself,  if  she  kept  the  deeds  in  Aunt  Ollie's 
name,  the  bank  account  in  hers,  drew  all  the  checks,  kept 
the  books,  would  it  be  safe?  Could  George  buy  timber 
as  he  thought;  could  she,  herself,  if  he  failed?  The 
children  were  old  enough  to  be  in  school  now,  she  could 
have  much  of  the  day,  she  could  soon  train  Polly  and 
Adam  to  do  even  more  than  sweep  and  run  errands;  the 
scheme  could  be  materialized  in  the  Bates  way,  without 
a  doubt;  but  could  it  be  done  in  a  Bates  way,  hampered 
and  impeded  by  George  Holt  ?  Was  the  plan  feasible,  after 
all  ?  She  entered  into  the  rosy  cloud  enveloping  the  kitchen 
without  ever  catching  the  faintest  gleam  of  its  hue.  George 
came  to  her  the  instant  he  saw  her  and  tried  to  put  his  arm 
around  her.     Kate  drew  back  and  looked  at  him  intently. 

"Aw,  come  on  now,  Kate,"  he  said.  "Leave  out  the 
heroics  and  be  human.  I'll  do  exactly  as  you  say  about 
everything  if  you  will  help  me  wheedle  Aunt  Ollie  into 
letting  me  have  the  money." 

Kate  stepped  back  and  put  out  her  hands  defensively: 
"A  rare  bargain,"  she  said,  "and  one  eminently  worthy 
of  you.  You'll  do  what  I  say,  if  I'll  do  what  you  say, 
without  the  slightest  reference  as  to  whether  it  impover- 
ishes a  woman  who  has  always  helped  and  befriended  you. 
You  make  me  sick!" 


THE  WORK  OF  THE  SUN  257 

"What's  biting  you  now?"  he  demanded,  sullenly. 

Kate  stood  tall  and  straight  before  and  above  him. 

"If  you  have  a  good  plan,  if  you  can  prove  that  it 
will  work,  what  is  the  necessity  for  'wheedling'  anybody? 
Why  not  state  what  you  propose  in  plain,  unequivocal 
terms,  and  let  the  dear,  old  soul,  who  has  done  so  much  for 
us  already,  decide  what  she  will  do?" 

"That's  what  I  meant!     That's  all. I  meant!"  he  cried. 

"In  that  case,  'wheedle'  is  a  queer  word  to  use." 

"I  believe  you'd  throw  up  the  whole  thing;  I  believe 
you'd  let  the  chance  to  be  a  rich  woman  slip  through  your 
ringers,  if  it  all  depended  on  your  saying  only  one  word 
you  thought  wasn't  quite  straight,"  he  cried,  half  in 
assertion,  half  in  question. 

"I  honour  you  in  that  belief,"  said  Kate.  "I  most 
certainly  would." 

"Then  you  turn  the  whole  thing  down  ?  You  won't  have 
anything  to  do  with  it?"  he  cried,  plunging  into  stoop- 
shouldered,  mouth-sagging  despair. 

"Oh,  I  didn't  say  that!"  said  Kate.  "Give  me  time! 
Let  me  think!  I've  got  to  know  that  there  isn't  a  snare  in 
it,  from  the  title  of  the  land  to  the  grade  of  the  creek  bed. 
Have  you  investigated  that?  Is  your  ravine  long  enough 
and  wide  enough  to  dam  it  high  enough  at  our  outlet  to 
get  your  power,  and  yet  not  back  water  on  the  road,  and 
the  farmers  above  you?  Won't  it  freeze  in  winter?  and 
can  you  get  strong  enough  power  from  water  to  run  a 
large  saw?  I  doubt  it!" 

"Oh,  gee!    I  never  thought  about  that!"  he  cried. 


258  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

"And  if  it  would  work,  did  you  figure  the  cost  of  a  dam 
into  your  estimate  of  the  building  and  machinery?" 

He  snapped  his  fingers  in  impatience. 

"By  heck!"  he  cried,  "I  forgot  that,  too!  But  that 
wouldn't  cost  much.  Look  what  we  did  in  that  ravine 
just  for  fun.    Why,  we  could  build  that  dam  ourselves!" 

"Yes,  strong  enough  for  conditions  in  September,  but 
what  about  the  January  freshet?"  she  said. 

"Croak!    Croak!    You  blame  old  raven,"  cried  George. 

"And  have  you  thought,"  continued  Kate,  "that 
there  is  no  room  on  the  bank  toward  town  to  set  your 
mill,  and  it  wouldn't  be  allowed  there,  if  there  were?" 

"You  bet  I  have!"  he  said  defiantly.  "I'm  no  such 
slouch  as  you  think  me.  I've  even  stepped  off"  the  loca- 
tion!" 

"Then,"  said  Kate,  "will  you  build  a  bridge  across 
the  ravine  to  reach  it,  or  will  you  buy  a  strip  from  Linn 
and  build  a  road?" 

George  collapsed  with  a  groan. 

"That's  the  trouble  with  you,"  said  Kate.  "You 
always  build  your  castle  with  not  even  sand  for  a  foun- 
dation. The  most  nebulous  of  rosy  clouds  serve  you 
as  perfectly  as  granite  blocks.  Before  you  go  glimmering 
again,  double  your  estimate  to  cover  a  dam  and  a 
bridge,  and  a  lot  of  incidentals  that  no  one  ever  seems 
able  to  include  in  a  building  contract.  And  whatever 
you  do,  keep  a  still  head  until  we  get  these  things  figured, 
and  have  some  sane  idea  of  what  the  venture  would 
cost." 


THE  WORK  OF  THE  SUN  259 

"How  long  will  it  take?"  he  said  sullenly. 

"I  haven't  an  idea.  I'd  have  to  go  to  Hartley  and 
examine  the  records  and  be  sure  that  there  was  no  flaw 
in  the  deeds  to  the  land;  but  the  first  thing  is  to  get  a 
surveyor  and  know  for  sure  if  you  have  a  water-power 
that  will  work  and  not  infringe  on  your  neighbours.  A 
thing  like  this  can't  be  done  in  a  few  minutes'  persua- 
sive conversation.     It  will  take  weeks." 

It  really  seemed  as  if  it  would  take  months.  Kate 
went  to  Walden  that  afternoon,  set  the  children  playing 
in  the  ravine  while  she  sketched  it,  made  the  best  estimate 
she  could  of  its  fall,  and  approved  the  curve  on  the  oppo- 
site bank  which  George  thought  could  be  cleared  for  a 
building  site  and  lumber  yard.  Then  she  added  a  location 
for  a  dam  and  a  bridge  site,  and  went  home  to  figure  and 
think.  The  further  she  went  in  these  processes  the  more 
hopeless  the  project  seemed.  She  soon  learned  that  there 
must  be  an  engine  with  a  boiler  to  run  the  saw.  The  dam 
could  be  used  only  to  make  a  pond  to  furnish  the  water 
needed;  but  at  that  it  would  be  cheaper  than  to  dig  a 
cistern  or  well.  She  would  not  even  suggest  to  Aunt 
Ollie  to  sell  any  of  the  home  forty.  The  sale  of  the  re- 
mainder at  the  most  hopeful  price  she  dared  estimate 
would  not  bring  half  the  money  needed,  and  it  would 
come  in  long-time  payments.  Lumber,  bricks,  machin- 
ery, could  not  be  had  on  time  of  any  length,  while 
wages  were  cash  every  Saturday  night. 

"It  simply  can't  be  done,"  said  Kate,  and  stopped 
thinking  about  it,  so  far  as  George  knew. 


260  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

He  was  at  once  plunged  into  morose  moping;  he  became 
sullen  and  indifferent  about  the  work,  ugly  with  Kate  and 
the  children,  until  she  was  driven  almost  frantic,  and 
projects  nearly  as  vague  as  some  of  George's  began  to 
float  through  her  head. 

One  Saturday  morning  Kate  had  risen  early  and 
finished  cleaning  up  her  house,  baking,  and  scrubbing 
porches.  She  had  taken  a  bath  to  freshen  and  cool 
herself  and  was  standing  before  her  dresser,  tucking 
the  last  pins  in  her  hair,  when  she  heard  a  heavy  step 
on  the  porch  and  a  loud  knock  on  the  screen  door.  She 
stood  at  an  angle  where  she  could  peep;  she  looked  as 
she  reached  for  her  dress.  What  she  saw  carried  her  to 
the  door  forgetful  of  the  dress.  Adam,  Jr.,  stood  there, 
white  and  shaken,  steadying  himself  against  the  casing. 

"Adam ! "  cried  Kate.     "  Is  Mother ? " 

He  shook  his  head. 

"Father ?"  she  panted. 

He  nodded,  seeming  unable  to  speak.  Kate's  eyes 
darkened  and  widened.  She  gave  Adam  another  glance 
and  opened  the  door:  "Come  in,"  she  said.  "When 
did  it  happen?     How  did  he  get  hurt?" 

In  that  moment  she  recalled  that  she  had  left  her 
father  in  perfect  health,  she  had  been  gone  more  than 
seven  years.  In  that  time  he  could  not  fail  to  illness; 
how  he  had  been  hurt  was  her  first  thought.  As  she  asked 
the  question,  she  stepped  into  her  room  and  snatched  up 
her  second  best  summer  dress,  waiting  for  Adam  to  speak 
as  she  slipped  into  it.    But  speaking  seemed  to  be  a  very 


THE  WORK  OF  THE  SUN  261 

difficult  thing  for  Adam.  He  was  slow  in  starting  and 
words  dragged  and  came  singly:  "Yesterday — tired 
■ — big  dinner — awful  hot — sunstroke " 

"He's  gone?"  she  cried. 

Adam  nodded  in  that  queer  way  again. 

"Why  did  you  come?  Does  Mother  want  me?"  the 
questions  leaped  from  Kate's  lips;  her  eyes  implored  him. 
Adam  was  too  stricken  to  heed  his  sister's  unspoken  plea. 

"Course,"  he  said.  "All  there — your  places — I  want 
you.    Only  one  in  the  family — not  stark  mad!" 

Kate  straightened  tensely  and  looked  at  him  again. 
"All  right,"  she  said.  "I  can  throw  a  few  things  in  my 
telescope,  write  the  children  a  note  to  take  to  their 
father  in  the  field,  and  we  can  stop  in  Walden  and  send 
Aunt  Ollie  out  to  cook  for  them;  I  can  go  as  well  as  not, 
for  as  long  as  Mother  wants  me." 

"Hurry!"  said  Adam. 

In  her  room  Kate  stood  still  a  second,  her  eyes  narrow, 
her  underlip  sucked  in,  her  heart  almost  stopped.  Then 
she  said  aloud:  "Father's  sons  have  wished  he  would 
die  too  long  for  his  death  to  strike  even  the  most  tolerant 
of  them  like  that.  Something  dreadful  has  happened.  I 
wonder  to  my  soul !" 

She  waited  until  they  were  past  Hartley  and  then  she 
asked  suddenly:    "Adam,  what  is  the  matter?" 

Then  Adam  spoke:  "I  am  one  of  a  pack  of  seven  poor 
fools,  and  every  other  girl  in  the  family  has  gone  raving 
mad,  so  I  thought  I'd  come  after  you,  and  see  if  you  had 
sense,  or  reason,  or  justice,  left  in  you-" 


262  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

"What  do  you  want  of  me?"  she  asked  dazedly. 

"I  want  you  to  be  fair,  to  be  honest,  to  do  as  you'd  be 
done  by.  You  came  to  me  when  you  were  in  trouble,"  he 
reminded  her. 

Kate  could  not  prevent  the  short  laugh  that  sprang  to 
her  lips,  nor  what  she  said:  "And  you  would  not  lift  a 
finger;  young  Adam  made  his  mother  help  me.  Why  don't 
you  go  to  George  for  what  you  want?" 

Adam  lost  all  self-control,  and  swore  sulphurously. 

"I  thought  you'd  be  different,"  he  said,  "but  I  see  you 
are  going  to  be  just  like  the  rest  of  the !" 

"Stop  that!"  said  Kate.  "You're  talking  about  my 
sisters — and  yours.  Stop  this  wild  talk,  and  tell  me 
exactly  what  is  the  matter." 

"I'm  telling  nothing,"  said  Adam.  "You  can  find  out 
what  is  the  matter  and  go  it  with  the  rest  of  them,  when 
you  get  there.  Mother  said  this  morning  she  wished 
you  were  there,  because  you'd  be  the  only  sane  one 
in  the  family,  so  I  thought  I'd  bring  you;  but  I  wish 
now  I  hadn't  done  it,  for  it  stands  to  reason  that  you 
will  join  the  pack,  and  run  as  fast  as  the  rest  of  the 
wolves." 

"From  a  prairie  fire,  or  to  a  carcass?"   asked  Kate. 

"I  told  you,  you  could  find  out  when  you  got  there. 
I'm  not  going  to  have  them  saying  I  influenced  you,  or 
bribed  you,"  he  said. 

"Do  you  really  think  that  they  think  you  could, 
Adam?"  asked  Kate,  wonderingly. 

"I  have  said  all  I'm  going  to  say,"  said  Adam,  and 


THE  WORK  OF  THE  SUN  263 

then  he  began  driving  his  horse  inhumanely  fast,  for  the 
heat  was  deep,  slow,  and  burning. 

"Adam,  is  there  any  such  hurry?"  asked  Kate.  "You 
know  you  are  abusing  your  horse  dreadfully." 

Adam  immediately  jerked  the  horse  with  all  his  might, 
and  slashed  the  length  of  its  body  with  two  long  stripes 
that  rapidly  raised  in  high  welts,  so  Kate  saw  that  he 
was  past  reasoning  with  and  said  no  other  word.  She 
tried  to  think  who  would  be  at  home,  how  they  would  treat 
her,  the  Prodigal,  who  had  not  been  there  in  seven  years; 
and  suddenly  it  occurred  to  Kate  that,  if  she  had  known 
all  she  now  knew  in  her  youth,  and  had  the  same  decision 
to  make  again  as  when  she  knew  nothing,  she  would  have 
taken  wing,  just  as  she  had.  She  had  made  failures,  she 
had  hurt  herself,  mind  and  body,  but  her  honour,  her  self- 
respect  were  intact.  Suddenly  she  sat  straight.  She  was 
glad  that  she  had  taken  a  bath,  worn  a  reasonably  decent 
dress,  and  had  a  better  one  in  the  back  of  the  buggy. 
She  would  cut  the  Gordian  knot  with  a  vengeance.  She 
would  not  wait  to  see  how  they  treated  her,  she  would 
treat  them  !  As  for  Adam's  state,  there  was  only  one  sur- 
mise she  could  make,  and  that  seemed  so  incredible,  she 
decided  to  wait  until  her  mother  told  her  all  about  what- 
ever the  trouble  was. 

As  they  came  in  sight  of  the  house,  queer  feelings  took 
possession  of  Kate.  She  struggled  to  think  kindly  of  her 
father;  she  tried  to  feel  pangs  of  grief  over  his  passing. 
She  was  too  forthright  and  had  too  good  memory  to 
succeed.     Home   had  been  so  unbearable  that  she  had 


264  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

taken  desperate  measures  to  escape  it,  but  as  the  white 
house  with  its  tree  and  shrub  filled  yard  could  be  seen 
more  plainly,  Kate  suddenly  was  filled  with  the  strongest 
possessive  feeling  she  ever  had  known.  It  was  home. 
It  was  her  home.  Her  place  was  there,  even  as  Adam 
had  said.  She  felt  a  sudden  revulsion  against  herself 
that  she  had  stayed  away  ■  seven  years;  she  should 
have  taken  her  chances  and  at  least  gone  to  see  her  mother. 
She  leaned  from  the  buggy  and  watched  for  the  first 
glimpse  of  the  tall,  gaunt,  dark  woman,  who  had  brought 
their  big  brood  into  the  world  and  stood  squarely  with 
her  husband,  against  every  one  of  them,  in  each  thing 
he  proposed. 

Now  he  was  gone.  No  doubt  he  had  carried  out  his 
intentions.  No  doubt  she  was  standing  by  him  as 
always.  Kate  gathered  her  skirts,  but  Adam  passed  the 
house,  driving  furiously  as  ever,  and  he  only  slackened 
speed  when  he  was  forced  to  at  the  turn  from  the  road  to 
the  lane.  He  stopped  the  buggy  in  the  barnyard,  got 
out,  and  began  unharnessing  the  horse.  Kate  sat  still 
and  watched  him  until  he  led  it  away,  then  she  stepped 
down  and  started  across  the  barnyard,  down  the  lane 
leading  to  the  dooryard.  As  she  closed  the  yard  gate 
and  rounded  a  widely  spreading  snowball  bush,  her  heart 
was  pounding  wildly.  What  was  coming?  How  would 
the  other  boys  act,  if  Adam,  the  best  balanced  man  of 
them  all,  was  behaving  as  he  was  ?  How  would  her  mother 
greet  her?  With  the  thought,  Kate  realized  that  she 
was  so  homesick  for  her  mother  that  she  would  do  or 


THE  WORK  OF  THE  SUN  265 

give  anything  in  the  world  to  see  her.  Then  there  was 
a  dragging  step,  a  short,  sharp  breath,  and  wheeling, 
Kate  stood  facing  her  mother.  She  had  come  from  the 
potato  patch  back  of  the  orchard,  carrying  a  pail  of 
potatoes  in  each  hand.  Her  face  was  haggard,  her  eyes 
bloodshot,  her  hair  falling  in  dark  tags,  her  cheeks  red 
with  exertion.  They  stood  facing  each  other.  At  the 
first  glimpse  Kate  cried,  "Oh,  Mother,"  and  sprang 
toward  her.  Then  she  stopped,  while  her  heart  again 
failed  her,  for  from  the  astonishment  on  her  mother's 
face,  Kate  saw  instantly  that  she  was  surprised,  and  had 
neither  sent  for  nor  expected  her.  She  was  nauseatingly 
disappointed.  Adam  had  said  she  was  wanted,  had  been 
sent  for.  Kate's  face  was  twitching,  her  lips  quivering, 
but  she  did  not  hesitate  more  than  an  instant. 

"I  see  you  were  not  expecting  me,"  she  said.  "I'm 
sorry.  Adam  came  after  me.  I  wouldn't  have  come  if 
he  hadn't  said  you  sent  for  me." 

Kate  paused  a  minute  hopefully.  Her  mother  looked 
at  her  steadily. 

"I'm  sorry,"  Kate  repeated.  "I  don't  see  why  he  said 
that." 

By  that  time  the  pain  in  her  heart  was  so  fierce  she 
caught  her  breath  sharply,  and  pressed  her  hand  hard 
against  her  side.  Her  mother  stooped,  set  down  the 
buckets,  and  taking  off  her  sunbonnet,  wiped  the  sweat 
from  her  lined  face  with  the  curtain. 

"Well,  I  do,"  she  said  tersely. 

"Why?"  demanded  Kate. 


266  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

"To  see  if  he  could  use  you  to  serve  his  own  interests,  of 
course,"  answered  her  mother.  "He  lied  good  and  hard 
when  he  said  I  sent  for  you;  I  didn't.  I  probably  wouldn't 
a-had  the  sense  to  do  it.  But  since  you  are  here,  I 
don't  mind  telling  you  that  I  never  was  so  glad  to  see  any 
one  in  all  my  born  days." 

Mrs.  Bates  drew  herself  full  height,  set  her  lips,  stif- 
fened her  jaw,  and  again  used  the  bonnet  skirt  on  her 
face  and  neck.  Kate  picked  up  the  potatoes,  to  hide 
the  big  tears  that  gushed  from  her  eyes,  and  leading  the 
way  toward  the  house  she  said:  "Come  over  here  in  the 
shade.     Why  should  you  be  out  digging  potatoes?" 

"Oh,  they's  enough  here,  and  willing  enough,"  said 
Mrs.  Bates.  "Slipped  off  to  get  away  from  them.  It 
was  the  quietest  and  the  peacefulest  out  there,  Kate.  I'd 
most  liked  to  stay  all  day,  but  it's  getting  on  to  dinner 
time,  and  I'm  short  of  potatoes." 

"Never  mind  the  potatoes,"  said  Kate.  "Let  the 
folks  serve  themselves  if  they  are  hungry." 

She  went  to  the  side  of  the  smoke  house,  picked  up  a 
bench  turned  up  there,  and  carrying  it  to  the  shady  side 
of  a  widely  spreading  privet  bush,  she  placed  it  where  it 
would  be  best  screened  from  both  house  and  barn.  Then 
setting  the  potatoes  in  the  shade,  she  went  to  her  mother, 
put  her  arm  around  her,  and  drew  her  to  the  seat.  She 
took  her  handkerchief  and  wiped  her  face,  smoothed 
back  her  straggled  hair,  and  pulling  out  a  pin,  fastened 
the  coil  better. 
"  "Now  rest  a  bit,"  she  said,  "and  then  tell  me  why  you 


THE  WORK  OF  THE  SUN  267 

are  glad  to  see  me,  and  exactly  what  you'd  like  me  to  do 
here.  Mind,  I've  been  away  seven  years,  and  Adam  told 
me  not  a  word,  except  that  Father  was  gone.'* 

"Humph!  All  missed  the  mark  again,"  commented 
Mrs.  Bates  dryly.  "They  all  said  he'd  gone  to  fill  you 
up,  and  get  you  on  his  side." 

"Mother,  what  is  the  trouble?"  asked  Kate.  "Take 
your  time  and  tell  me  what  has  happened,  and  what  you 
want,  not  what  Adam  wants." 

Mrs.  Bates  relaxed  her  body  a  trifle,  but  gripped  her 
hands  tightly  together  in  her  lap. 

"Well,  it  was  quick  work,"  she  said.  "It  all  came 
yesterday  afternoon  just  like  being  hit  by  lightning. 
Pa  hadn't  failed  a  particle  that  any  one  could  see.  Ate 
a  big  dinner  of  ham  an'  boiled  dumplings,  an'  him  an' 
Hiram  was  in  the  west  field.  It  was  scorchin'  hot  an' 
first  Hiram  saw,  Pa  was  down.  Sam  Langley  was  passin' 
an'  helped  get  him  in,  an'  took  our  horse  an*  ran  for 
Robert.  He  was  in  the  country  but  Sam  brought  an- 
other doctor  real  quick,  an'  he  seemed  to  fetch  Pa  out  of  it 
in  good  shape,  so  we  thought  he'd  be  all  right,  mebby  by 
morning,  though  the  doctor  said  he'd  have  to  hole  up  a  day 
or  two.  He  went  away,  promisin'  to  send  Robert  back, 
and  Hiram  went  home  to  feed.  I  set  by  Pa  fanning 
him  an'  putting  cloths  on  his  head.  All  at  once  he 
began  to  chill. 

"We  thought  it  was  only  the  way  a-body  was  with 
sunstroke,  and  past  pilin'  on  blankets,  we  didn't  pay  much 
attention.    He  said  he  was  all  right,  so  I  went  to  milk. 


268  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

Before  I  left  I  gave  him  a  drink,  an'  he  asked  me  to  feel 
in  his  pants  pocket  an'  get  the  key  an'  hand  him  the  deed 
box,  till  he'd  see  if  everything  was  right.  Said  he  guessed 
he'd  had  a  close  call.  You  know  how  he  was.  I  got  him 
the  box  and  went  to  do  the  evening  work.  I  hur- 
ried fast  as  I  could.  Coming  back,  clear  acrost  the  yard 
I  smelt  burning  wool,  an'  I  dropped  the  milk  an'  ran. 
I  dunno  no  more  about  just  what  happened  'an  you 
do.  The  house  was  full  of  smoke.  Pa  was  on  the 
floor,  most  to  the  sitting-room  door,  his  head  and  hair 
and  hands  awfully  burned,  his  shirt  burned  off,  laying 
face  down,  and  clear  gone.  The  minute  I  seen  the  way 
he  laid,  I  knew  he  was  gone.  The  bed  was  pourin'  smoke 
and  one  little  blaze  about  six  inches  high  was  shootin' 
up  to  the  top.  I  got  that  out,  and  then  I  saw  most  of 
the  fire  was  smothered  between  the  blankets  where  he'd 
thrown  them  back  to  get  out  of  the  bed.  I  dunno  why 
he  fooled  with  the  lamp.  It  always  stood  on  the  little 
table  in  his  reach,  but  it  was  light  enough  to  read  fine 
print.  All  I  can  figure  is  that  the  light  was  going  out 
of  his  eyes,  an'  he  thought  it  was  gettin  dark,  so  he 
tried  to  light  the  lamp  to  see  the  deeds.  He  was 
fingerin'  them  when  I  left,  but  he  didn't  say  he  couldn't 
see  them.  The  lamp  was  just  on  the  bare  edge  of  the 
table,  the  wick  way  up  an'  blackened,  the  chimney 
smashed  on  the  floor,  the  bed  afire." 

"Those  deeds  are  burned?"  gasped  Kate.  "AH  of 
them?     Are  they  all  gone?" 

"Every  last  one,"  said  Mrs.  Bates. 


THE  WORK  OF  THE  SUN  269 

"Well,  if  one  is  gone,  thank  God  they  all  are,"  said 
Kate. 

Her  mother  turned  swiftly  and  caught  her  arm. 

"Say  that  again!"  she  cried  eagerly. 

"Maybe  I'm  wrong  about  it,  but  it's  what  I  think," 
said  Kate.  "If  the  boys  are  crazy  over  all  of  them  being 
gone,  they'd  do  murder  if  part  had  theirs,  and  the  others 
had  not." 

Mrs.  Bates  doubled  over  on  Kate's  shoulder  suddenly 
and  struggled  with  an  inward  spasm. 

"You  poor  thing,"  said  Kate.  "This  is  dreadful.  All 
of  us  know  how  you  loved  him,  how  you  worked  together. 
Can  you  think  of  anything  I  can  do?  Is  there  any  special 
thing  the  matter?" 

"I'm  afraid!"  whispered  Mrs.  Bates.  "Oh,  Katie,  I'm 
so  afraid.  You  know  how  set  he  was,  you  know  how  he 
worked  himself  and  all  of  us — he  had  to  know  what  he 
was  doing,  when  he  fought  the  fire  till  the  shirt  burned 
off  him" — her  voice  dropped  to  a  harsh  whisper — "what 
do  you  s'pose  he's  doing  now?" 

Any  form  of  religious  belief  was  a  subject  that  never 
had  been  touched  upon  or  talked  of  in  the  Bates  family. 
Money  was  their  God,  work  their  religion;  Kate  looked  at 
her  mother  curiously. 

"You  mean  you  believe  in  after  life?"  she  asked. 

"Why,  I  suppose  there  must  be  something"  she  said. 

"I  think  so  myself,"  said  Kate.  "I  always  have.  I 
think  there  is  a  God,  and  that  Father  is  facing  Him  now, 
and  finding  out  for  the  first  time  in  his  experience  that  he  is 


270  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

very  small  potatoes,  and  what  he  planned  and  slaved  for 
amounted  to  nothing,  in  the  scheme  of  the  universe.  I 
can't  imagine  Father  being  subdued  by  anything  on  earth, 
but  it  appeals  to  me  that  he  will  cut  a  pathetic  figure  be- 
fore the  throne  of  an  Almighty  God." 
A  slow  grin  twisted  Mrs.  Bates'  lips. 
"Well,  wherever  he  went,"  she  said,  "I  guess  he  found 
out  pretty  quick  that  he  was  some  place  at  last  where  he 
couldn't  be  boss." 

"I'm  very  sure  he  has,"  said  Kate,  "and  I  am  equally 
sure  the  discipline  will  be  good  for  him.  But  his  sons! 
His  precious  sons!    What  are  they  doing?" 

"Taking  it  according  to  their  bent,"  said  Mrs.  Bates. 
"Adam  is  insane,  Hiram  is  crying." 
"Have  you  had  a  lawyer?"  asked  Kate. 
"What  for?     We  all  know  the  law  on  this  subject 
better  than  we  know  our  a,  b,  c's." 

"Did  your  deed  for  this  place  go,  too?"  asked  Kate. 
"Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Bates,  "but  mine  was  recorded,  none 
of  the  others  were.  I  get  a  third,  and  the  rest  will  be  cut 
up  and  divided,  share  and  share  alike,  among  all  of  you, 
equally.  I  think  it's  going  to  kill  Adam  and  ruin  Andrew." 
"It  won't  do  either.  But  this  is  awful.  I  can  see  how 
the  boys  feel,  and  really,  Mother,  this  is  no  more  fair  to 
them  than  things  always  have  been  for  the  girls.  By 
the  way,  what  are  they  doing?" 

"Same  as  the  boys,  acting  out  their  natures.  Mary  is 
openly  rejoicing.  So  is  Nancy  Ellen.  Hannah  and 
Bertha  at  least  can  see  the  boys'  side.    The  others  say 


THE  WORK  OF  THE  SUN  271 

one  thing  before  the  boys  and  another  among  themselves. 
In  the  end  the  girls  will  have  their  shares  and  nobody  can 
blame  them.  I  don't  myself,  but  I  think  Pa  will  rise 
from  his  grave  when  those  farms  are  torn  up." 

"Don't  worry,"  said  Kate.  "He  will  have  learned  by 
now  that  graves  are  merely  incidental,  and  that  he  has 
no  option  on  real  estate  where  he  is.  Leave  him  to  his 
harp,  and  tell  me  what  you  want  done." 

"I  want  you  to  see  that  it  was  all  accidental.  I  want 
you  to  take  care  of  me.  I  want  you  should  think  out  the 
fair  thing  for  all  of  us  to  do.  I  want  you  to  keep  sane 
and  cool-headed  and  shame  the  others  into  behaving 
themselves.  And  I  want  you  to  smash  down  hard  on 
their  everlasting,  'why  didn't  you  do  this?'  and  'why 
didn't  you  do  that?'  I  reckon  I've  been  told  five  hundred 
times  a-ready  that  I  shouldn't  a-give  him  the  deeds. 
Josie  says  it,  an'  then  she  sings  it.  Not  give  them  to  him  ! 
How  could  I  help  giving  them  to  him?  He'd  a-got  up 
and  got  them  himself  if  I  hadn't " 

"You  have  cut  out  something  of  a  job  for  me,"  said  Kate, 
"but  I'll  do  my  best.  Anyway,  I  can  take  care  of  you. 
Come  on  into  the  house  now,  and  let  me  clean  you  up, 
and  then  I'll  talk  the  rest  of  them  into  reason,  if  you  stand 
back  of  me,  and  let  them  see  I'm  acting  for  you." 

"You  go  ahead,"  said  Mrs.  Bates.  "I'll  back  whatever 
you  say.  But  keep  them  off  of  me!  Keep  them  off  of 
me! 

After  Kate  had  bathed  her  mother,  helped  her  into 
fresh  clothes,  and  brushed  her  hair,  she  coaxed  her  to  lie 


272  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

down,   and   by  diplomatic  talk   and   stroking  her  head, 
finally  soothed  her  to  sleep.     Then  she  went  down  and 
announced  the  fact,    asked   them   all   to   be   quiet,   and 
began  making  her  way  from  group  to  group  in  an  effort 
to  restore  mental  balance  and  sanity.     After  Kate  had  in- 
vited all  of  them  to  go  home  and  stay  until  time  for  the 
funeral  Sunday  morning,  and  all  of  them  had  emphatically 
declined,  and  eagerly  had  gone  on  straining  the  situation  to 
the  breaking  point,  Kate  gave  up  and  began  setting  the 
table.     When  any  of  them  tried  to  talk  or  argue  with 
her  she  said   conclusively:     "I   shall  not  say  one  word 
about    this    until   Monday.     Then   we   will   talk   things 
over,  and  find  where  we  stand,  and  what  Mother  wants. 
This  would  be  much  easier  for  all  of  us,  if  you'd  all  go 
home  and  calm  down,  and  plan  out  what  you  think  would 
be  the  fair  and  just  thing  to  do." 

Before  evening  Kate  was  back  exactly  where  she  left 
off,  for  when  Mrs.  Bates  came  downstairs,  her  nerves 
quieted  by  her  long  sleep,  she  asked  Kate  what  would  be 
best  about  each  question  that  arose,  while  Kate  answered 
as  nearly  for  all  of  them  as  her  judgment  and  common 
sense  dictated;  but  she  gave  the  answer  in  her  own  way, 
and  she  paved  the  way  by  making  a  short,  sharp  speech 
when  the  first  person  said  in  her  hearing  that  "Mother 
never  should  have  given  him  the  deeds/'  Not  one  of  them 
said  that  again,  while  at  Kate's  suggestion,  mentally 
and  on  scraps  of  paper,  every  single  one  of  them  figured 
that  one  third  of  sixteen  hundred  and  fifty  was  five 
hundred  and  fifty;  subtracted  from  sixteen  hundred  and 


THE  WORK  OF  THE  SUN  273 

fifty  this  left  one  thousand  one  hundred,  which,  divided 
by  sixteen,  gave  sixty-eight  and  three  fourths.  This  re- 
sult gave  Josie  the  hysterics,  strong  and  capable  though 
she  was;  made  Hiram  violently  ill,  so  that  he  resorted  to 
garden  palings  for  a  support;  while  Agatha  used  her  in- 
fluence suddenly,  and  took  Adam,  Jr.,  home. 

As  she  came  to  Kate  to  say  that  they  were  going, 
Agatha  was  white  as  possible,  her  thin  lips  compressed, 
a  red  spot  burning  on  either  cheek. 

"Adam  and  I  shall  take  our  departure  now,  Kather- 
ine,"  she  said,  standing  very  stiffly,  her  head  held  higher 
than  Kate  ever  had  thought  it  could  be  lifted.  Kate 
put  her  arm  around  her  sister-in-law  and  gave  her  a  hearty 
hug:  "Tell  Adam  I'll  do  what  I  think  is  fair  and  just; 
and  use  all  the  influence  I  have  to  get  the  others  to  do  the 
same,"  she  said. 

"Fruitless!"  said  Agatha.  "Fruitless!  Reason  and 
justice  have  departed  from  this  abode.  I  shall  hasten 
my  pace,  and  take  Adam  where  my  influence  is  para- 
mount. The  state  of  affairs  here  is  deplorable,  per- 
fectly deplorable!  I  shall  not  be  missed,  and  I  shall 
leave  my  male  offspring  to  take  the  place  of  his  poor,  de- 
frauded father." 

Adam,  3d,  was  now  a  tall,  handsome  young  man  of 
twenty-two,  quite  as  fond  of  Kate  as  ever.  He  wiped 
the  dishes,  and  when  the  evening  work  was  finished,  they 
talked  with  Mrs.  Bates  until  they  knew  her  every  wish. 
The  children  had  planned  for  a  funeral  from  the  church, 
because  it  was  large  enough  to  seat  the  family  and  friends 


274  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

in  comfort;  but  when  they  mentioned  this  to  Mrs.  Bates, 
she  delivered  an  ultimatum  on  the  instant:  "You'll  do 
no  such  thing!"  she  cried.  "Pa  never  went  to  that  church 
living;  I'll  not  sanction  his  being  carried  there  feet  first, 
when  he's  helpless.  And  we'll  not  scandalize  the  neigh- 
bours by  fighting  over  money  on  Sunday,  either.  You'll 
all  come  Monday  morning,  if  you  want  anything  to  say 
about  this.  If  you  don't,  I'll  put  through  the  business  in 
short  order.  I'm  sick  to  my  soul  of  the  whole  thing.  I'll 
wash  my  hands  of  it  as  quick  as  possible." 

So  the  families  all  went  to  their  homes;  Kate  helped 
her  mother  to  bed;  and  then  she  and  Adam,  3d,  tried  to 
plan  what  would  be  best  for  the  morrow;  afterward  they 
sat  down  and  figured  until  almost  dawn. 

"There's  no  faintest  possibility  of  pleasing  everyone," 
said  Kate.  "The  level  best  we  can  do  is  to  devise  some 
scheme  whereby  everyone  will  come  as  nearly  being  satis- 
fied as  possible." 

"Can  Aunt  Josie  and  Aunt  Mary  keep  from  fighting 
across  the  grave?"  asked  Adam. 

"Only  Heaven  knows,"  said  Kate. 


CHAPTER  XVII 
The  Banner  Hand 

SUNDAY  morning  Kate  arose  early  and  had  the 
house  clean  and  everything  ready  when  the  first 
carriage  load  drove  into  the  barnyard.  As  she 
helped  her  mother  to  dress,  Mrs.  Bates  again  evidenced  a 
rebellious  spirit.  Nancy  Ellen  had  slipped  upstairs  and 
sewed  fine  white  niching  in  the  neck  and  sleeves  of  her 
mother's  best  dress,  her  only  dress,  in  fact,  aside  from  the 
calicoes  she  worked  in.  Kate  combed  her  mother's 
hair  and  drew  it  in  loose  waves  across  her  temples.  As 
she  produced  the  dress,  Mrs.  Bates  drew  back. 

"What  did  you  stick  them  gew-gaws  onto  my  dress 
for?"   she   demanded. 

"I  didn't,"  said  Kate. 

"Oh,  it  was  Nancy  Ellen!  Well,  I  don't  see  why  she 
wanted  to  make  a  laughing  stock  of  me,"  said  Mrs.  Bates. 

"She  didn't!"  said  Kate.  "Everyone  is  wearing 
ruching  now;  she  wanted  her  mother  to  have  what  the 
best  of  them  have." 

"Humph!"  said  Mrs.  Bates.  "Well,  I  reckon  I  can 
stand  it  until  noon,  but  it's  going  to  be  a  hot  dose." 

"Haven't  you  a  thin  black  dress,  Mother?"  asked  Kate. 

"No,"  said  Mrs.  Bates,  "I  haven't;  but  you  can  make 

275 


276  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

a  pretty  safe  bet  that  I  will  have  one  before  I  start  any- 
where again  in  such  weather  as  this." 

"That's  the  proper  spirit,"  said  Kate.  "There  comes 
Andrew.     Let  me  put  your  bonnet  on." 

She  set  the  fine  black  bonnet  Nancy  Ellen  had  bought 
on  Mrs.  Bates'  head  at  the  proper  angle  and  tied  the  long, 
wide  silk  ribbon  beneath  her  chin.  Mrs.  Bates  sat  in 
martyr-like  resignation.  Kate  was  pleased  with  her  moth- 
er's appearance. 

"Look  in  the  mirror,"  she  said.  "See  what  a  handsome 
lady  you  are." 

"I  ain't  seen  in  a  looking-glass  since  I  don't  know 
when,"  said  Mrs.  Bates.  "Why  should  I  begin  now? 
Chances  are  'at  you  have  rigged  me  up  until  I'll  set  the 
neighbours  laughing,  or  else  to  saying  that  I  didn't  wait 
until  the  breath  was  out  of  Pa's  body  to  begin  primping." 

"Nonsense,  Mother,"  said  Kate.  "Nobody  will  say  or 
think  anything.  Everyone  will  recognize  Nancy  Ellen's 
fine  Spencerian  hand  in  that  bonnet  and  niching.  Now 
for  your  veil!" 

Mrs.  Holt  arose  from  her  chair,  and  stepped  back. 

** There,  there,  Katie!"  she  said.  "You've  gone  far 
enough.  I'll  be  sweat  to  a  lather  in  this  dress;  I'll  wear  the 
head-riggin',  because  I've  got  to,  or  set  the  neighbours 
talkin'  how  mean  Pa  was  not  to  let  me  have  a  bonnet; 
and  between  the  two  I'd  rather  they'd  take  it  out  on  me 
than  on  him."  She  steadied  herself  by  the  chair  back 
and  looked  Kate  in  the  eyes.  "Pa  was  always  the  banner 
hand  to  boss   everything,"  she   said.     "He  was   so   big 


THE  BANNER  HAND  277 

and  strong,  and  so  all-fired  sure  he  was  right,  I  never 
contraried  him  in  the  start,  so  before  I  knowed  it,  I  was 
waiting  for  him  to  say  what  to  do,  and  then  agreeing 
with  him,  even  when  I  knowed  he  was  wrong.  So  goin* 
we  got  along  finey  but  it  give  me  an  awful  smothered 
feeling  at  times." 

Kate  stood  looking  at  her  mother  intently,  her  brain 
racing,  for  she  was  thinking  to  herself:  "Good  Lord! 
She  means  that  to  preserve  the  appearance  of  r?lf-respect 
she  systematically  agreed  with  him,  whether  she  thought 
he  was  right  or  wrong;  because  she  was  not  able  to  hold 
her  own  against  him.  Nearly  fifty  years  of  life  like 
that!" 

Kate  tossed  the  heavy  black  crepe  veil  back  on  the 
bed.  "Mother,"  she  said,  "here  alone  and  between  us, 
if  I  promise  never  to  tell  a  living  soul,  will  you  tell  me 
the  truth  about  that  deed  business?"  Mrs.  Bates  seemed 
so  agitated  Kate  added:  "I  mean  how  it  started.  If 
you  thought  it  was  right  and  a  fair  thing  to  do." 

"Yes,  I'll  tell  you  that,"  said  Mrs.  Bates.  "It  was 
not  fair,  and  I  saw  it;  I  saw  it  good  and  plenty.  There 
was  no  use  to  fight  him;  that  would  only  a-drove  him  to 
record  them,  but  I  was  sick  of  it,  an'  I  told  him  so." 

Kate  was  pinning  her  hat. 

"I  have  planned  for  you  to  walk  with  Adam,"  she  said. 

"Well,  you  can  just  change  that  plan,  so  far  as  I  am 
concerned,"  said  Mrs.  Bates  with  finality.  "I  ain't 
a-goin'  with  Adam.  Somebody  had  told  him  about  the 
deeds  before  he  got  here.     He  came  in  ravin',  and  he 


278  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

talked  to  me  something  terrible.  He  was  the  first  to 
say  I  shouldn't  a-give  Pa  the  box.  Not  give  it  to  him  I 
An*  he  went  farther  than  that,  till  I  just  rose  up  an* 
called  him  down  proper;  but  I  ain't  feelin'  good  at  him, 
an'  I  ain't  goin'  with  him.  I  am  goin'  with  you.  I  want 
somebody  with  me  that  understands  me,  and  feels  a 
little  for  me,  an*  I  want  the  neighbours  to  see  that  the 
minute  I'm  boss,  such  a  fine  girl  as  you  has  her  rightful 
place  in  her  home.  I'll  go  with  you,  or  I'll  sit  down  on 
this  chair,  and  sit  here." 

"But  you  didn't  send  for  me,"  said  Kate. 

"No,  I  hadn't  quite  got  round  to  it  yet;  but  I  was 
coming.  I'd  told  all  of  them  that  you  were  the  only  one 
in  the  lot  who  had  any  sense;  and  I'd  said  I  wished  you 
were  here,  and  as  I  see  it,  I'd  a-sent  for  you  yesterday 
afternoon  about  three  o'clock.  I  was  coming  to  it  fast. 
I  didn't  feel  just  like  standing  up  for  myself;  but  I'd 
took  about  all  fault-finding  it  was  in  me  to  bear.  Just 
about  three  o'clock  I'd  a-sent  for  you,  Katie,  sure  as 
God  made  little  apples." 

"All  right  then,"  said  Kate,  "but  if  you  don't  tell 
them,  they'll  always  say  I  took  the  lead." 

"Well,  they  got  to  say  something,"  said  Mrs.  Bates. 
"Most  of  'em  would  die  if  they  had  to  keep  their  mouths 
shut  awhile;  but  I'll  tell  them  fast  enough." 

Then  she  led  the  way  downstairs.  There  were  enough 
members  of  the  immediate  family  to  pack  the  front  rooms 
of  the  house,  the  neighbours  filled  the  dining  room  and 
dooryard.     The  church  choir  sang  a  hymn   in   front  of 


THE  BANNER  HAND  279 

the  house,  the  minister  stood  on  the  front  steps  and  read 
a  chapter,  and  told  where  Mr.  Bates  had  been  born, 
married,  the  size  of  his  family  and  possessions,  said  he 
was  a  good  father,  an  honest  neighbour,  and  very 
sensibly  left  his  future  with  his  God.  Then  the  choir 
sang  again  and  all  started  to  their  conveyances.  As 
the  breaking  up  began  outside,  Mrs.  Bates  arose  and 
stepped  to  the  foot  of  the  casket.  She  steadied  herself 
by  it  and  said:  "Some  time  back,  I  promised  Pa  that 
if  he  went  before  I  did,  at  this  time  in  his  funeral  ceremony 
I  would  set  his  black  tin  box  on  the  foot  of  his  coffin  and 
unlock  it  before  all  of  you,  and  in  the  order  in  which 
they  lay,  beginning  with  Adam,  Jr.,  hand  each  of  you 
boys  the  deed  Pa  had  made  you  for  the  land  you  live  on. 
You  all  know  what  happened.  None  of  you  know  just 
how.  It  wouldn't  bring  the  deeds  back  if  you  did.  They're 
gone.  But  I  want  you  boys  to  follow  your  father  to  his, 
grave  with  nothing  in  your  hearts  against  him.  He  was 
all  for  the  men.  I  don't  ever  want  to  hear  any  of  you 
criticize  him  about  this,  or  me,  either.  He  did  his  best 
to  make  you  upstanding  men  in  your  community,  his 
one  failing  being  that  he  liked  being  an  upstanding  man 
himself  so  well  that  he  carried  it  too  far;  but  his  in- 
tentions was  the  best.  As  for  me,  I'd  no  idea  how  sick 
he  was,  and  nobody  else  had.  I  minded  him  just  like  all 
the  rest  of  you  always  did;  the  boys  especially.  From 
the  church  I  want  all  of  you  to  go  home  until  to-morrow 
morning,  and  then  I  want  my  sons  and  daughters  by 
birth   only,   to  come   here,   and   we'll   talk   things   over, 


28o  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

quietly,  quietly,  mind  you;  and  decide  what  to  do.  Katie, 
will  you  come  with  me  ?" 

It  was  not  quite  a  tearless  funeral.  Some  of  the 
daughters-in-law  wept  from  nervous  excitement;  and 
some  of  the  little  children  cried  with  fear,  but  there  were 
no  tears  from  the  wife  of  Adam  Bates,  or  his  sons  and 
daughters.  And  when  he  was  left  to  the  mercies  of  time, 
all  of  them  followed  Mrs.  Bates'  orders,  except  Nancy 
Ellen  and  Robert,  who  stopped  to  help  Kate  with  the 
dinner.  Kate  slipped  into  her  second  dress  and  went  to 
work.  Mrs.  Bates  untied  her  bonnet  strings  and  un- 
fastened her  dress  neck  as  they  started  home.  She  unbut- 
toned her  waist  going  up  the  back  walk  and  pulled  it  off 
at  the  door. 

"Well,  if  I  ever  put  that  thing  on  in  July  again,"  she 
said,  "you  can  use  my  head  for  a  knock-maul.  Nancy 
Ellen,  can't  you  stop  at  a  store  as  you  come  out  in  the 
morning  and  get  the  goods,  and  you  girls  run  me  up  a 
dress  that  is  nice  enough  to  go  out  in,  and  not  so  hot  it 
starts  me  burning  before  my  time?" 

"Of  course  I  can,"  said  Nancy  Ellen.  "About  what 
do  you  want  to  pay,  Mother?" 

"Whatever  it  takes  to  get  a  decent  and  a  cool  dress; 
cool,  mind  you,"  said  Mrs.  Bates,  "an'  any  colour  but 
black." 

"Why,  Mother!"  cried  Nancy  Ellen  "it  must  be 
black!" 

"No,"  said  Mrs.  Bates.  "Pa  kept  me  in  black  all  my 
life   on   the   supposition   it   showed   the    dirt    the    least. 


THE  BANNER  HAND  281 

There's  nothing  in  that.  It  shows  dirt  worse  'an  white. 
I  got  my  fill  of  black.  You  can  get  a  nice  cool  gray,  if 
you  want  me  to  wear  it." 

"Well,  I  never!"  said  Nancy  Ellen.  "\^hat  will  the 
neighbours  say?" 

"What  do  I  care?"  asked  Mrs.  Bates.  "They've 
talked  about  me  all  my  life,  I'd  be  kinda  lonesome  if 
they's  to  quit." 

Dinner  over,  Kate  proposed  that  her  mother  should 
lie  down  while  they  washed  the  dishes. 

"I  would  like  a  little  rest,"  said  Mrs.  Bates.  "I 
guess  I'll  go  upstairs." 

"You'll  do  nothing  of  the  kind,"  said  Kate.  "It's 
dreadfully  hot  up  there.  Go  in  the  spare  room,  where 
it  is  cool;  we'll  keep  quiet.  I  am  going  to  stay  Tuesday 
until  I  move  you  in  there,  anyway.  It's  smaller,  but  it's 
big  enough  for  one,  and  you'll  feel  much  better  there." 

"Oh,  Katie,  I'm  so  glad  you  thought  of  that,"  cried 
Mrs.  Bates.  "I  been  thinking  and  thinking  about  it, 
and  it  just  seems  as  if  I  can't  ever  steel  myself  to  go 
into  that  room  to  sleep  again.  I'll  never  enter  that 
door  that  I  don't  see " 

"You'll  never  enter  it  again  as  your  room,"  said  Kate. 
"I'll  fix  you  up  before  I  go;  and  Sally  Whistler  told  me 
last  evening  she  would  come  and  make  her  home  with 
you  if  you  wanted  her.    You  like  Sally,  don't  you?" 

"Yes,  I  like  her  fine,"  said  Mrs.  Bates. 

Quietly  as  possible  the  girls  washed  the  dishes,  pulled 
down  the  blinds,  closed  the  front  door,  and  slipped  down 


282  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

in  the  orchard  with  Robert  to  talk  things  over.  Nancy 
Ellen  was  stiffly  reserved  with  Kate,  but  she  would  speak 
when  she  was  spoken  to,  which  was  so  much  better  than 
silence  that  Kate  was  happy  over  it.  Robert  was  himself. 
Kate  thought  she  had  never  liked  him  so  well.  He 
seemed  to  grow  even  kind  and  more  considerate  as  the 
years  passed.  Nancy  Ellen  was  prettier  than  Kate  ever 
had  seen  her,  but  there  was  a  line  of  discontent  around  her 
mouth,  and  she  spoke  pettishly  on  slight  provocation,  or 
none  at  all.  Now  she  was  openly,  brazenly,  brutally, 
frank  in  her  rejoicing.  She  thought  it  was  the  best  "joke" 
that  ever  happened  to  the  boys;  and  she  said  so  repeatedly. 
Kate  found  her  lips  closing  more  tightly  and  a  slight  feel- 
ing of  revulsion  growing  in  her  heart.  Surely  in  Nancy 
Ellen's  lovely  home,  cared  for  and  shielded  in  every 
way,  she  had  no  such  need  of  money  as  Kate  had  her- 
self. She  was  delighted  when  Nancy  Ellen  said  she 
was  sleepy,  and  was  going  to  the  living-room  lounge 
for  a  nap.  Then  Kate  produced  her  sheet  of  figures. 
She  and  Robert  talked  the  situation  over  and  carefully 
figured  on  how  an  adjustment,  fair  to  all,  could  be  made, 
until  they  were  called  to  supper. 

After  supper  Nancy  Ellen  and  Robert  went  home,  while 
Kate  and  her  mother  sat  on  the  back  porch  and  talked 
until  Kate  had  a  clear  understanding  and  a  definite  plan 
in  her  mind,  which  was  that  much  improvement  over 
wearing  herself  out  in  bitter  revilings,  or  selfish  rejoicing 
over  her  brothers'  misfortune.  Her  mother  listened  to 
all  she  had  to  say,  asked  a  question  occasionally,  objected 


THE  BANNER  HAND  283 

to  some  things,  and  suggested  others.  They  arose  when 
they  had  covered  every  contingency  they  could  think  of 
and  went  upstairs  to  bed,  even  though  the  downstairs 
was  cooler. 

As  she  undressed,  Mrs.  Bates  said  slowly:  "Now  in 
the  morning,  I'll  speak  my  piece  first;  and  I'll  say  it  pretty 
plain.  I  got  the  whip-hand  here  for  once  in  my  life. 
They  can't  rave  and  fight  here,  and  insult  me  again,  as 
they  did  Friday  night  and  Saturday  till  you  got  here 
an'  shut  'em  up.  I  won't  stand  it,  that's  flat!  I'll  tell 
'em  so,  and  that  you  speak  for  me,  because  you  can 
figure  faster  and  express  yourself  plainer;  but  insist  that 
there  be  no  fussing,  an'  I'll  back  you.  I  don't  know 
just  what  life  has  been  doing  to  you,  Katie,  but  Lord!  it 
has  made  a  fine  woman  of  you." 

Kate  set  her  lips  in  an  even  line  and  said  nothing,  but 
her  heart  was  the  gladdest  it  had  been  in  years. 

Her  mother  continued:  "Seems  like  Nancy  Ellen 
had  all  the  chance.  Most  folks  thought  she  was  a  lot  the 
purtiest  to  start  with,  though  I  can't  say  that  I  ever  saw 
so  much  difference.  She's  had  leisure  an'  pettin',  and 
her  husband  has  made  a  mint  o'  money;  she's  gone  all 
over  the  country  with  him,  and  the  more  chance  she  has, 
the  narrower  she  grows,  and  the  more  discontenteder. 
One  thing,  she  is  awful  disappointed  about  havin'  no  chil- 
dren.    I  pity  her  about  that." 

"Is  it  because  she's  a  twin?"  asked  Kate. 

"I'm  afraid  so,"  said  Mrs.  Bates.  "You  can't  tell 
much    about   those   things,  they  just   seem   to   happen. 


284  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

Robert  and  Nancy  Ellen  feel  awful  bad  about  it.  Still, 
she  might  do  for  others  what  she  would  for  her  own.  The 
Lord  knows  there  are  enough  mighty  nice  children  in  the 
world  who  need  mothering.  I  want  to  see  your  chil- 
dren, Katie.  Are  they  nice  little  folks,  straight  and  good 
looking  ? " 

"The  boy  is,"  said  Kate.  "The  girl  is  good,  with 
the  exception  of  being  the  most  stubborn  child  I've 
ever  seen.  She  looks  so  much  like  a  woman  it  almost 
sickens  me  to  think  of  that  I  have  to  drive  myself  to  do 
her  justice." 

"What  a  pity!"  said  Mrs.  Bates,  slowly. 

"Oh,  they  are  healthy,  happy  youngsters,"  said  Kate. 
"They  get  as  much  as  we  ever  did,  and  don't  expect  any 
more.     I  have  yet  to  see  a  demonstrative  Bates." 

"Humph!"  said  Mrs.  Bates.  "Well,  you  ought  to 
been  here  Friday  night,  and  I  thought  Adam  came 
precious  near  it  Saturday." 

"Demonstrating  power,  or  anger,  yes,"  said  Kate. 
"I  meant  affection.  And  isn't  it  the  queerest  thing  how 
people  are  made  ?  Of  all  the  boys,  Adam  is  the  one  who 
has  had  the  most  softening  influences,  and  who  has  made 
the  most  money,  and  yet  he's  acting  the  worst  of  all. 
It  really  seems  as  if  failure  and  hardship  make  more  of  a 
human  being  of  folks  than  success." 

"You're  right,"  said  Mrs.  Bates.  "Look  at  Nancy 
Ellen  and  Adam.  Sometimes  I  think  Adam  has  been 
pretty  much  galled  with  Agatha  and  her  money  all  these 
years;  and  it  just  drives  him  crazy  to  think  of  having 


THE  BANNER  HAND  285 

still  less  than  she  has.  Have  you  got  your  figures  all 
set  down,  to  back  you  up,  Katie?" 

"Yes,"  said  Kate.  "I've  gone  all  over  it  with  Robert, 
and  he  thinks  it's  the  best  and  only  thing  that  can  be 
done.     Now  go  to  sleep." 

Each  knew  that  the  other  was  awake  most  of  the  night, 
but  very  few  words  passed  between  them.  They  were 
up  early,  dressed,  and  waiting  when  the  first  carriage 
stopped  at  the  gate.  Kate  told  her  mother  to  stay  where 
she  would  not  be  worried  until  she  was  needed,  and 
went  down  herself  to  meet  her  brothers  and  sisters  in 
the  big  living  room.  When  the  last  one  arrived,  she 
called  her  mother.  Mrs.  Bates  came  down  looking 
hollow-eyed,  haggard,  and  grim,  as  none  of  her  children 
ever  before  had  seen  her.  She  walked  directly  to  the 
little  table  at  the  end  of  the  room,  and  while  still  standing 
she  said:  "Now  I've  got  a  few  words  to  say,  and  then 
I'll  turn  this  over  to  a  younger  head  an'  one  better  at 
figures  than  mine.  I've  said  my  say  as  to  Pa,  yesterday. 
Now  I'll  say  this,  for  myself.  I  got  my  start,  minding 
Pa,  and  agreeing  with  him,  young;  but  you  needn't  any 
of  you  throw  it  in  my  teeth  now,  that  I  did.  There  is 
only  one  woman  among  you,  and  no  man  who  ever  dis- 
obeyed him.  Katie  stood  up  to  him  once,  and  got  seven 
years  from  home  to  punish  her  and  me.  He  wasn't 
right  then,  and  I  knew  it,  as  I'd  often  known  it  before, 
and  pretty  often  since;  but  no  woman  God  ever  made 
could  have  lived  with  Adam  Bates  as  his  wife  and  con- 
traried   him.      I   didn't   mind   him   any   quicker  or   any 


286  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

oftener  than  the  rest  of  you;  keep  that  pretty  clear  in 
your  heads,  and  don't  one  of  you  dare  open  your  mouth 
again  to  tell  me,  as  you  did  Saturday,  what  I  should 
a-done,  and  what  I  shouldn't.  I've  had  the  law  of  this 
explained  to  me;  you  all  know  it  for  that  matter.  By 
the  law,  I  get  this  place  and  one  third  of  all  the  other 
land  and  money.  I  don't  know  just  what  money  there 
is  at  the  bank  or  in  notes  and  mortgages,  but  a  sixteenth 
of  it  after  my  third  is  taken  out  ain't  going  to  make  or 
break  any  of  you.  I've  told  Katie  what  I'm  willing  to 
do  on  my  part  and  she  will  explain  it,  and  then  tell  you 
about  a  plan  she  has  fixed  up.  As  for  me,  you  can  take 
it  or  leave  it.  If  you  take  it,  well  and  good;  if  you  don't, 
the  law  will  be  set  in  motion  to-day,  and  it  will  take  its 
course  to  the  end.    It  all  depends  on  you. 

"Now  two  things  more.  At  the  start,  what  Pa  wanted  to 
do  seemed  to  me  right,  and  I  agreed  with  him  and  worked 
with  him.  But  when  my  girls  began  to  grow  up  and  I  saw 
how  they  felt,  and  how  they  struggled  and  worked,  and 
how  the  women  you  boys  married  went  ahead  of  my 
own  girls,  and  had  finer  homes,  an'  carriages,  and  easier 
times,  I  got  pretty  sick  of  it,  and  I  told  Pa  so  more'n 
once.  He  just  raved  whenever  I  did,  an'  he  always 
carried  his  keys  in  his  pocket.  I  never  touched  his 
chest  key  in  my  life,  till  I  handed  him  his  deed  box 
Friday  afternoon.  But  I  agree  with  my  girls.  It's  fair 
and  right,  since  things  have  come  out  as  they  have,  that 
they  should  have  their  shares.    I  would,  too. 

"The  other  thing  is  just  this :    I'm  tired  to  death  of  the 


THE  BANNER  HAND  287 

whole  business.  I  want  peace  and  rest  and  I  want  it 
quick.  Friday  and  Saturday  I  was  so  scared  and  so 
knocked  out  I  s'pose  I'd  'a'  took  it  if  one  of  the  sucking 
babies  had  riz  up  and  commenced  to  tell  me  what  I 
should  a-done,  and  what  I  shouldn't.  I'm  through  with 
that.  You  will  all  keep  civil  tongues  in  your  heads  this 
morning,  or  I'll  get  up  and  go  upstairs,  an'  lock  myself 
in  a  room  till  you're  gone,  an'  if  I  go,  it  will  mean  that 
the  law  takes  its  course;  and  if  it  does,  there  will  be  three 
hundred  acres  less  land  to  divide.  You've  had  Pa  on 
your  hands  all  your  lives,  now  you  will  go  civil,  and  you 
will  go  easy,  or  you  will  get  a  taste  of  Ma.  I  take  no 
more  talk  from  anybody.  Katie,  go  ahead  with  your 
figures." 

Kate  spread  her  sheet  on  the  table  and  glanced  around 
the  room: 

"The  Milton  County  records  show  sixteen  hundred  and 
fifty  acres  standing  in  Father's  name,"  she  said.  "Of 
these,  Mother  is  heir  to  five  hundred  and  fifty  acres, 
leaving  one  thousand  one  hundred  acres  to  be  divided 
among  sixteen  of  us,  which  gives  sixty-eight  and  three 
fourths  acres  to  each.  This  land  is  the  finest  that  proper 
fertilization  and  careful  handling  can  make.  Even  the 
poorest  is  the  cream  of  the  country  as  compared  with  the 
surrounding  farms.  As  a  basis  of  estimate  I  have  taken 
one  hundred  dollars  an  acre  as  a  fair  selling  figure.  Some 
is  worth  more,  some  less,  but  that  is  a  good  average. 
This  would  make  the  share  of  each  of  us  in  cash  that 
could  easily  be  realized,  six  thousand  eight  hundred  and 


288  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

seventy-five  dollars.  Whatever  else  is  in  mortgages,  notes, 
and  money  can  be  collected  as  it  is  due,  deposited  in 
some  bank,  and  when  it  is  all  in,  divided  equally  among 
us,  after  deducting  Mother's  third.  Now  this  is  the  law, 
and  those  are  the  figures,  but  I  shall  venture  to  say 
that  none  of  us  feel  right  about  it,  or  ever  will." 

An  emphatic  murmur  of  approval  ran  among  the  boys, 
Mary  and  Nancy  Ellen  stoutly  declared  that  they  did. 

"Oh,  no,  you  don't!"  said  Kate.  "If  God  made  any 
woman  of  you  so  that  she  feels  right  and  clean  in  her 
conscience  about  this  deal,  he  made  her  wrong,  and  that 
is  a  thing  that  has  not  yet  been  proven  of  God.  As  I 
see  it,  here  is  the  boys'  side:  from  childhood  they  were 
told,  bribed,  and  urged  to  miss  holidays,  work  all  week, 
and  often  on  Sunday,  to  push  and  slave  on  the  promise 
of  this  land  at  twenty-one.  They  all  got  the  land  and 
money  to  stock  it  and  build  homes.  They  were  told  it 
was  theirs,  required  to  pay  the  taxes  on  it,  and  also  to 
labour  at  any  time  and  without  wages  for  Father.  Not 
one  of  the  boys  but  has  done  several  hundred  dollars' 
worth  of  work  on  Father's  farm  for  nothing,  to  keep  him 
satisfied  and  to  insure  getting  his  deed.  All  these  years, 
each  man  has  paid  his  taxes,  put  thousands  in  improve- 
ments, in  rebuilding  homes  and  barns,  fertilizing,  and 
developing  his  land.  Each  one  of  these  farms  is  worth 
nearly  twice  what  it  was  the  day  it  was  received.  That 
the  boys  should  lose  all  this  is  no  cause  for  rejoicing  on 
the  part  of  any  true  woman;  as  a  fact,  no  true  woman 
will  allow  such  a  thing  to  happen " 


THE  BANNER  HAND  289 

"Speak  for  yourself!"   cried   several  of  the   girls    at 
once. 

"Now  right  here  is  where  we  come  to  a  perfect  under- 
standing," said  Kate.  "I  did  say  that  for  myself,  but 
in  the  main  what  I  say,  I  say  for  Mother.  Now  you  will 
not  one  of  you  interrupt  me  again,  or  this  meeting 
closes,  and  each  of  you  stands  to  lose  more  than  two 
thousand  dollars,  which  is  worth  being  civil  for,  for 
quite  a  while.  No  more  of  that!  I  say  any  woman 
should  be  ashamed  to  take  advantage  of  her  brother 
through  an  accident;  and  rob  him  of  years  of  work  and 
money  he  was  perfectly  justified  in  thinking  was  his. 
I,  for  one,  refuse  to  do  it,  and  I  want  and  need  money 
probably  more  than  any  of  you.  To  tear  up  these  farms, 
to  take  more  than  half  from  the  boys,  is  too  much.  On 
the  other  hand,  for  the  girls  to  help  earn  the  land,  to  go 
with  no  inheritance  at  all,  is  even  more  unfair.  Now  in 
order  to  arrive  at  a  compromise  that  will  leave  each 
boy  his  farm,  and  give  each  girl  the  nearest  possible  to  a 
fair  amount,  figuring  in  what  the  boys  have  spent  in 
taxes  and  work  for  Father,  and  what  each  girl  has  lost 
by  not  having  her  money  to  handle  all  these  years,  it  is 
necessary  to  split  the  difference  between  the  time  Adam, 
the  eldest,  has  had  his  inheritance,  and  Hiram,  the  young- 
est, came  into  possession,  which  by  taking  from  and 
adding  to,  gives  a  fair  average  of  fifteen  years.  Now 
Mother  proposes  if  we  will  enter  into  an  agreement  this 
morning  with  no  words  and  no  wrangling,  to  settle  on 
this   basis:   she  will   relinquish    her    third    of   all    other 


29o  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

land,  and  keep  only  this  home  farm.  She  even  will 
allow  the  fifty  lying  across  the  road  to  be  sold  and  the 
money  put  into  a  general  fund  for  the  share  of  the  girls. 
She  will  turn  into  this  fund  all  money  from  notes  and 
mortgages,  and  the  sale  of  all  stock,  implements,  etc., 
here,  except  what  she  wants  to  keep  for  her  use,  and  the 
sum  of  three  thousand  dollars  in  cash,  to  provide  against 
old  age.  This  releases  quite  a  sum  of  money,  and  three 
hundred  and  fifty  acres  of  land,  which  she  gives  to  the 
boys  to  start  this  fund  as  her  recompense  for  their  work 
and  loss  through  a  scheme  in  which  she  had  a  share  in 
the  start.  She  does  this  only  on  the  understanding  that 
the  boys  form  a  pool,  and  in  some  way  take  from  what 
they  have  saved,  sell  timber  or  cattle,  or  borrow  enough 
money  to  add  to  this  sufficient  to  pay  to  each  girl  six 
thousand  dollars  in  cash,  in  three  months.  Now  get 
out  your  pencils  and  figure.  Start  with  the  original 
number  of  acres  at  fifty  dollars  an  acre  which  is  what 
it  cost  Father  on  an  average.  Balance  against  each  other 
what  the  boys  have  lost  in  tax  and  work,  and  the  girls 
have  lost  in  not  having  their  money  to  handle,  and 
cross  it  off.  Then  figure,  not  on  a  basis  of  what  the 
boys  have  made  this  land  worth,  but  on  what  it  cost 
Father's  estate  to  buy,  build  on,  and  stock  each  farm. 
Strike  the  fifteen-year  average  on  prices  and  profits. 
Figure  that  the  girls  get  all  their  money  practically 
immediately,  to  pay  for  the  time  they  have  been  out  of 
it;  while  each  boy  assumes  an  equal  share  of  the  in- 
debtedness   required    to    finish    out    the    six    thousand, 


THE  BANNER  HAND  291 

after  Mother  has  turned  in  what  she  is  willing  to,  if  this 
is  settled  here  and  now" 

"Then  I  understand,"  said  Mary,  "that  if  we  take 
under  the  law,  each  of  us  is  entitled  to  sixty-eight  and 
three  quarter  acres;  and  if  we  take  under  Mother's 
proposition  we  are  entitled  to  eighty-seven  and  a  half 
acres." 

"No,  no,  E.  A.,"  said  Kate,  the  old  nickname  for 
"Exceptional  Ability"  slipping  out  before  she  thought, 
"No,  no!  Not  so!  You  take  sixty-eight  and  three 
quarters  under  the  law.  Mother's  proposition  is  made 
only  to  the  boys,  and  only  on  condition  that  they  settle 
here  and  now;  because  she  feels  responsible  to  them  for 
her  share  in  rearing  them  and  starting  them  out  as  she 
did.  By  accepting  her  proposition  you  lose  eight  hundred 
and  seventy-five  dollars,  approximately.  The  boys  lose  on 
the  same  basis,  figuring  at  fifty  dollars  an  acre,  six  thousand 
five  hundred  and  sixty-two  dollars  and  fifty  cents,  plus 
their  work  and  taxes,  and  minus  what  Mother  will  turn 

in,  which  will  be  about,  let  me  see It  will  take  a  pool 

of  fifty-four  thousand  dollars  to  pay  each  of  us  six  thou- 
sand. If  Mother  raises  thirty-five  thousand,  plus  sale 
money  and  notes,  it  will  leave  about  nineteen  thousand 
for  the  boys,  which  will  divide  up  at  nearly  two  thousand 
five  hundred  for  them  to  lose,  as  against  less  than  a 
thousand  for  us.  That  should  be  enough  to  square 
matters  with  any  right-minded  woman,  even  in  our 
positions.  It  will  give  us  that  much  cash  in  hand,  it 
will  leave  the  boys,  some  of  the  younger  ones,  in  debt 


292  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

for  years,  if  they  hold  their  land.  What  more  do  you 
want?" 

"I  want  the  last  cent  that  is  coming  to  me,"  said  Mary. 

"I  thought  you  would,"  said  Kate.  "Yet  you  have 
the  best  home,  and  the  most  money,  of  any  of  the  girls 
living  on  farms.  I  settle  under  this  proposition,  because  it 
is  fair  and  just,  and  what  Mother  wants  done.  If  she 
feels  that  this  is  defrauding  the  girls  any,  she  can  arrange 
to  leave  what  she  has  to  us  at  her  death,  which  would 
more  than  square  matters  in  our  favour " 

"You  hold  on  there,  Katie,"  said  Mrs.  Bates.  "You're 
going  too  fast!  I'll  get  what's  coming  to  me,  and  hang 
on  to  it  awhile,  before  I  decide  which  way  the  cat  jumps. 
I  reckon  you'll  all  admit  that  in  mothering  the  sixteen 
of  you,  doing  my  share  indoors  and  out,  and  living  with 
Pa  for  all  these  years,  I've  earned  it.  I'll  not  tie  myself 
up  in  any  way.  I'll  do  just  what  I  please  with  mine. 
Figure  in  all  I've  told  you  to;  for  the  rest — let  be!" 

"I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  Kate.  "You're  right,  of 
course.  I'll  sign  this,  and  I  shall  expect  every  sister  I 
have  to  do  the  same,  quickly  and  cheerfully,  as  the  best 
way  out  of  a  bad  business  that  has  hurt  all  of  us  for 
years,  and  then  I  shall  expect  the  boys  to  follow  like  men. 
It's  the  fairest,  decentest  thing  we  can  do,  let's  get  it 
over." 

Kate  picked  up  the  pen,  handed  it  to  her  mother, 
signed  afterward  herself,  and  then  carried  it  to  each  of 
her  sisters,  leaving  Nancy  Ellen  and  Mary  until  last. 
All  of  them  signed  up  to  Nancy  Ellen.     She  hesitated, 


THE  BANNER  HAND  293 

then    she    whispered    to    Kate:      "Did    Robert ?" 

Kate  nodded.  Nancy  Ellen  thought  deeply  a  minute  and 
then  said  slowly:  "I  guess  it  is  the  quickest  and  best  we  can 
do."  So  she  signed.  Mary  hesitated  longer,  but  finally 
added  her  name.  Kate  passed  on  to  the  boys,  beginning 
with  Adam.  Slowly  he  wrote  his  name,  and  as  he  handed 
back  the  paper  he  said:  "Thank  you,  Kate,  I  believe 
it's  the  sanest  thing  we  can  do.  I  can  make  it  easier  than 
the  younger  boys." 

"  Then  help  them,"  said  Kate  tersely,  passing  on. 

Each  boy  signed  in  turn,  all  of  them  pleased  with 
the  chance.  It  was  so  much  better  than  they  had 
hoped,  that  it  was  a  great  relief,  which  most  of  them 
admitted;  so  they  followed  Adam's  example  in  thanking 
Kate,  for  all  of  them  knew  that  in  her  brain  had  originated 
the  scheme,  which  seemed  to  make  the  best  of  their 
troubles. 

Then  they  sat  closer  and  talked  things  over  calmly  and 
dispassionately.  It  was  agreed  that  Adam  and  his 
mother  should  drive  to  Hartley  the  following  afternoon 
and  arrange  for  him  to  take  out  papers  of  administration 
for  her,  and  start  the  adjustment  of  affairs.  They  all 
went  home  thinking  more  of  each  other,  and  Kate  es- 
pecially, than  ever  before.  Mrs.  Bates  got  dinner  while 
Kate  and  Nancy  Ellen  went  to  work  on  the  cool  gray 
dress,  so  that  it  would  be  ready  for  the  next  afternoon. 
While  her  mother  was  away  Kate  cleaned  the  spare  bed- 
room and  moved  her  mother's  possessions  into  it.  She 
made  it  as  convenient  and  comfortable  and  as  pretty  as 


294  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

she  could,  but  the  house  was  bare  to  austerity,  so  that  her 
attempt  at  prettifying  was  rather  a  failure.  Then  she 
opened  the  closed  room  and  cleaned  it,  after  studying 
it  most  carefully  as  it  stood.  The  longer  she  worked, 
the  stronger  became  a  conviction  that  was  slowly  working 
its  way  into  her  brain.  When  she  could  do  no  more  she 
packed  her  telescope,  installed  Sally  Whistler  in  her 
father's  room,  and  rode  to  Hartley  with  a  neighbour. 
From  there  she  took  the  Wednesday  hack  for  Walden. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

Kate  Takes  the  Bit  in  Her  Teeth 

THE  hackman  was  obliging,  for  after  delivering  the 
mail  and  some  parcels,  he  took  Kate  to  her  home. 
While  she  waited  for  him,  she  walked  the  ravine 
bank  planning  about  the  mill  which  was  now  so  sure 
that  she  might  almost  begin  work.  Surely  she  might  as 
soon  as  she  finished  figuring,  for  she  had  visited  the 
Court  House  in  Hartley  and  found  that  George's  deeds 
were  legal,  and  in  proper  shape.  Her  mind  was  filled 
with  plans  which  this  time  must  succeed. 

As  she  approached  the  house  she  could  see  the  children 
playing  in  the  yard.  It  was  the  first  time  she  ever  had 
been  away  from  them;  she  wondered  if  they  had  missed 
her.  She  was  amazed  to  find  that  they  were  very  de- 
cidedly disappointed  to  see  her;  but  a  few  pertinent  ques- 
tions developed  the  reason.  Their  grandmother  had 
come  with  her  sister;  she  had  spent  her  time  teaching 
them  that  their  mother  was  cold,  and  hard,  and  abused 
them,  by  not  treating  them  as  other  children  were  treated. 
So  far  as  Kate  could  see  they  had  broken  every  rule  she 
had  ever  laid  down  for  them:  eaten  until  their  stomachs 
were  out  of  order,  and  played  in  their  better  clothing,  until 
it  never  would  be  nice  again,  while  Polly  shouted  at  her 

295 


296  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

approach:  "Give  me  the  oranges  and  candy.  I  want 
to  divide  them." 

"Silly,"  said  Kate.  "This  is  too  soon.  I've  no 
money  yet,  it  will  be  a  long  time  before  I  get  any;  but  you 
shall  each  have  an  orange,  some  candy,  and  new  clothing 
when  I  do.     Now  run  see  what  big  fish  you  can  catch." 

Satisfied,  the  children  obeyed  and  ran  to  the  creek. 
Aunt  Ollie,  worried  and  angered,  told  Adam  to  tell  his 
father  that  Mother  was  home  and  for  him  to  come  and 
take  her  and  grandmother  to  Walden  at  once.  She  had 
not  been  able  to  keep  Mrs.  Holt  from  one  steady  round 
of  mischief;  but  she  argued  that  her  sister  could  do  less, 
with  her  on  guard,  than  alone,  so  she  had  stayed  and  done 
her  best;  but  she  knew  how  Kate  would  be  annoyed,  so 
she  believed  the  best  course  was  to  leave  as  quickly  as  pos- 
sible. Kate  walked  into  the  house,  spoke  to  both  women, 
and  went  to  her  room  to' change  her  clothing.  Before 
she  had  finished,  she  heard  George's  voice  in  the  house 
demanding:  "Where's  our  millionaire  lady?  I  want  a 
look  at  her."      • 

Kate  was  very  tired,  slowly  relaxing  from  intense  nerve 
strain,  she  was  holding  herself  in  check  about  the  children. 
She  took  a  tighter  grip,  and  vowed  she  would  not  give  Mrs. 
Holt  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  her  disturbed  and  provoked, 
if  she  killed  herself  in  the  effort  at  self-control.  She 
stepped  toward  the  door. 

"Here,"  she  called  in  a  clear  voice,  the  tone  of  which 
brought  George  swiftly. 

"What  was  he  worth,  anyway?"  he  shouted. 


TAKES  THE  BIT  IN  HER  TEETH        297 

"Oh,  millions  and  millions,"  said  Kate,  sweetly, 
"at  least  I  think  so.  It  was  scarcely  a  time  to  discuss 
finances,  in  the  face  of  that  horrible  accident." 

George  laughed.  "Oh,  you're  a  good  one!"  he  cried. 
"Think  you  can  keep  a  thing  like  that  still?  The  cats, 
and  the  dogs,  and  the  chickens  of  the  whole  county  know 
about  the  deeds  the  old  Land  King  had  made  for  his  sons; 
and  how  he  got  left  on  it.  Served  him  right,  too!  We 
could  hear  Andrew  swear,  and  see  Adam  beat  his  horse, 
clear  over  here!  That's  right!  Go  ahead!  Put  on 
airs!  Tell  us  something  we  don't  know,  will  you?  May- 
be you  think  I  wasn't  hanging  pretty  close  around  that 
neighbourhood,  myself!" 

"Spying?"  cried  Kate. 

"Looking  for  timber,"  he  sneered.  "And  never  in  all 
my  life  have  I  seen  anything  to  beat  it.  Sixteen  hundred 
and  fifty  acres  of  the  best  land  in  the  world.  Your 
share  of  land  and  money  together  will  be  every  cent  of 
twelve  thousand.  Oh,  I  guess  I  know  what  you've  got  up 
your  sleeve,  my  lady.  Come  on,  shell  out!  Let's  all  go 
celebrate.     What  did  you  bring  the  children?" 

Kate  was  rapidly  losing  patience  in  spite  of  her  resolves. 

"Myself,"  she  said.  "From  their  appearance  and 
actions,  goodness  knows  they  needed  me.  I  have  been 
to  my  father's  funeral,  George;  not  to  a  circus." 

"Humph!"  said  George.  "And  home  for  the  first  time 
in  seven  years.  You  needn't  tell  me  it  wasn't  the  biggest 
picnic  you  ever  had!  And  say,  about  those  deeds  burn- 
ing up — wasn't  that  too  grand?" 


298  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

"Even  if  my  father  burned  with  them?"  she  asked. 
"George,  you  make  me  completely  disgusted." 

"Big  hypocrite!"  he  scoffed.  "You  know  you're 
tickled  silly.  Why,  you  will  get  ten  times  as  much  as 
you  would  if  those  deeds  hadn't  burned.  I  know  what 
that  estate  amounts  to.  I  know  what  that  land  is  worth. 
I'll  see  that  you  get  your  share  to  the  last  penny  that  can 
be  wrung  out  of  it.  You  bet  I  will !  Things  are  coming 
our  way  at  last.  Now  we  can  build  the  mill,  and  do 
everything  we  planned.  I  don't  know  as  we  will  build 
a  mill.  With  your  fifteen  thousand  we  could  start  a  store 
in  Hartley,  and  do  bigger  things." 

"The  thing  for  you  to  do  right  now  is  to  hitch  up  and 
take  Aunt  Ollie  and  your  mother  home,"  said  Kate. 
"I'll  talk  to  you  after  supper  and  tell  you  all  there  is 
to  know.     I'm  dusty  and  tired  now." 

"Well,  you  needn't  try  to  fix  up  any  shenanigan  for 
me,"  he  said.  "I  know  to  within  five  hundred  dollars 
of  what  your  share  in  that  estate  is  worth,  and  I'll  see 
that  you  get  it." 

"No  one  has  even  remotely  suggested  that  I  shouldn't 
have  my  share  of  that  estate,"  said  Kate. 

While  he  was  gone,  Kate  thought  intently  as  she  went 
about  her  work.  She  saw  exactly  what  her  position  was, 
and  what  she  had  to  do.  Their  talk  would  be  disagree- 
able, but  the  matter  had  to  be  gone  into  and  gotten 
over.  She  let  George  talk  as  he  would  while  she  finished 
supper  and  they  ate.  When  he  went  to  his  evening  work, 
she  helped  the  children  scale  their  fish  for  breakfast  and 


TAKES  THE  BIT  IN  HER  TEETH        299 

as  they  worked  she  talked  to  them,  sanely,  sensibly, 
explaining  what  she  could,  avoiding  what  she  could 
not.  She  put  them  to  bed,  her  heart  almost  sickened 
at  what  they  had  been  taught  and  told.  Kate  was  in  no 
very  propitious  mood  for  her  interview  with  George. 
As  she  sat  on  the  front  porch  waiting  for  him,  she  was 
wishing  with  all  her  heart  that  she  was  back  home  with 
the  children,  to  remain  forever.  That,  of  course,  was 
out  of  the  question,  but  she  wished  it.  She  had  been  so 
glad  to  be  with  her  mother  again,  to  be  of  service,  to 
hear  a  word  of  approval  now  and  then.  She  must  be 
worthy  of  her  mother's  opinion,  she  thought,  just  as  George 
stepped  on  the  porch,  sat  on  the  top  step,  leaned  against 
a  pillar,  and  said:     "Now  go  on,  tell  me  all  about  it." 

Kate  thought  intently  a  second.  Instead  of  beginning 
with  leaving  Friday  morning:  "I  was  at  the  Court 
House  in  Hartley  this  morning,"  she  said. 

"You  needn't  have  done  that,"  he  scoffed.  "I  spent 
most  of  the  day  there  Monday.  You  bet  folks  shelled 
out  the  books  when  I  told  them  who  I  was,  and  what 
I  was  after.  I  must  say  you  folks  have  some  little  reason 
to  be  high  and  mighty.  You  sure  have  got  the  dough.  No 
wonder  the  old  man  hung  on  to  his  deeds  himself.  He 
wasn't  so  far  from  a  King,  all  right,  all  right." 

"You  mean  you  left  your  work  Monday,  and  went  to 
the  Court  House  in  Hartley  and  told  who  you  were,  and 
spent  the  day  nosing  into  my  father's  affairs,  before  his 
sons  had  done  anything,  or  you  had  any  idea  what  was 
to  be  done?"  she  demanded. 


3oo  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

"Oh,  you  needn't  get  high  and  mighty,"  he  said.  "I 
propose  to  know  just  where  I  am,  about  this.  I  propose 
to  have  just  what  is  coming  to  me — to  you,  to  the  last 
penny,  and  no  Bates  man  will  manage  the  affair,  either." 

Suddenly  Kate  leaned  forward. 

"I  foresee  that  you've  fixed  yourself  up  for  a  big 
disappointment,"  she  said.  "My  mother  and  her  eldest 
son  will  settle  my  father's  estate;  and  when  it  is  settled 
I  shall  have  exactly  what  the  other  girls  have.  Then 
if  I  still  think  it  is  wise,  I  shall  at  once  go  to  work 
building  the  mill.  Everything  must  be  shaved  to  the 
last  cent,  must  be  done  with  closest  economy,  I  must 
come  out  of  this  with  enough  left  to  provide  us  a  com- 
fortable home." 

"Do  that  from  the  first  profits  of  the  mill,"  he  suggested. 

"I'm  no  good  at  *  counting  chickens  before  they're 
hatched,'"  said  Kate.  "Besides,  the  first  profits  from 
the  mill,  as  you  very  well  know,  if  you  would  ever  stop 
to  think,  must  go  to  pay  for  logs  to  work  on,  and  there 
must  always  be  a  good  balance  for  that  purpose.  No. 
I  reserve  enough  from  my  money  to  fix  the  home  I  want; 
but  I  shall  wait  to  do  it  until  the  mill  is  working,  so  I 
can  give  all  my  attention  to  it,  while  you  are  out  looking 
up  timber." 

"Of  course  I  can  do  all  of  it  perfectly  well,"  he  said. 
"And  it's  a  man's  business.  You'll  make  me  look  like 
fifty  cents  if  you  get  out  among  men  and  go  to  doing  a 
thing  no  woman  in  this  part  of  the  country  ever  did. 
Why,  it  will  look  like  you  didn't  trust  me!" 


TAKES  THE  BIT  IN  HER  TEETH         301 

"I  can't  help  how  it  will  look,"  said  Kate.  "This 
is  my  last  and  only  dollar;  if  I  lose  it,  I  am  out 
for  life;  I  shall  take  no  risk.  I've  no  confidence  in 
your  business  ability,  and  you  know  it.  It  need  not 
hurt  your  pride  a  particle  to  say  that  we  are  partners; 
that  I'm  going  to  build  the  mill,  while  you're  going  to 
bring  in  the  timber.  It's  the  only  way  I  shall  touch  the 
proposition.  I  will  give  you  two  hundred  dollars  for  the 
deed  and  abstract  of  the  ravine.  I'll  give  your  mother 
eight  hundred  for  the  lot  and  house,  which  is  two  hundred 
more  than  it  is  worth.  I'll  lay  away  enough  to  rebuild 
and  refurnish  it,  and  with  the  remainder  I'll  build  the 
dam,  bridge,  and  mill,  just  as  quickly  as  it  can  be  done. 
As  soon  as  I  get  my  money,  we'll  buy  timber  for  the  mill 
and  get  it  sawed  and  dried  this  winter.  We  can  be  all 
done  and  running  by  next  June." 

"  Kate,  how  are  you  going  to  get  all  that  land  sold,  and 
the  money  in  hand  to  divide  up  that  quickly?  I  don't 
think  it  ever  can  be  done.  Land  is  always  sold  on  time, 
you  know,"  he  said. 

Kate  drew  a  deep  breath.  "  This  land  isn't  going  to 
be  sold,"  she  said.  "Most  of  the  boys  have  owned  their 
farms  long  enough  to  have  enabled  them  to  buy  other  land, 
and  put  money  in  the  bank.  They're  going  to  form  a 
pool,  and  put  in  enough  money  to  pay  the  girls  the 
share  they  have  agreed  to  take;  even  if  they  have  to 
borrow  it,  as  some  of  the  younger  ones  will;  but  the 
older  ones  will  help  them;  so  the  girls  are  to  have  their 
money  in  cash,  in  three  months.     I  was  mighty  glad  of 


3o2  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

the  arrangement  for  my  part,  because  we  can  begin  at 
once  on  our  plans  for  the  mill." 

"And  how  much  do  the  girls  get?"  he  asked  darkly. 

"Can't  say  just  yet,"  said  Kate.  "The  notes  and 
mortgages  have  to  be  gone  over,  and  the  thing  figured 
out;  it  will  take  some  time.  Mother  and  Adam  began 
yesterday;  we  shall  know  in  a  few  weeks." 

"Sounds  to  me  like  a  cold-blooded  Bates  steal,"  he 
cried.  "Who  figured  out  what  was  a  fair  share  for  the 
girls;  who  planned  that  arrangement?  Why  didn't  you 
insist  on  the  thing  going  through  court;  the  land  being 
sold,  and  equal  division  of  all  the  proceeds?" 

"Now  if  you'll  agree  not  to  say  a  word  until  I  finish, 
I'll  show  you  the  figures,"  said  Kate.  "I'll  tell  you  what 
the  plan  is,  and  why  it  was  made,  and  I'll  tell  you  further 
that  it  is  already  recorded,  and  in  action.  There  are  no 
minor  heirs.  We  could  make  an  agreement  and  record 
it.  There  was  no  will.  Mother  will  administer.  It's  all 
settled.     Wait  until  I  get  the  figures." 

Then  slowly  and  clearly  she  went  over  the  situation, 
explaining  everything  in  detail.  When  she  finished  he 
sat  staring  at  her  with  a  snarling  face. 

"You  signed  that?"  he  demanded.  "You  signed  that! 
You  threw  azvay  at  least  half  you  might  have  had  !  You  let 
those  lazy  scoundrels  of  brothers  of  yours  hoodwink 
you,  and  pull  the  wool  over  your  eyes  like  that?  Are  you 
mad  ?    Are  you  stark,  staring  mad  ? " 

"No,  I'm  quite  sane,"  said  Kate.  "It  is  you  who  are 
mad.    You  know  my  figures,  don't  you?    Those  were  the 


TAKES  THE  BIT  IN  HER  TEETH         303 

only  ones  used  yesterday.  The  whole  scheme  was 
mine,  with  help  from  Mother  to  the  extent  of  her  giving 
up  everything  except  the  home  farm." 

"You  crazy  fool!"  he  cried,  springing  up. 

"Now  stop,"  said  Kate.  "Stop  right  there!  I've 
done  what  I  think  is  right,  and  fair,  and  just,  and  I'm 
happy  with  the  results.  Act  decently,  I'll  stay  and  build 
the  mill.  Say  one,  only  one  more  of  the  nasty,  insulting 
things  in  your  head,  and  I'll  go  in  there  and  wake  up  the 
children  and  we  will  leave  now  and  on  foot." 

Confronted  with  Kate  and  her  ultimatum,  George  arose 
and  walked  down  to  the  road;  he  began  pacing  back 
and  forth  in  the  moonlight,  struggling  to  regain  com- 
mand of  himself.  He  had  no  money.  He  had  no  prospect 
of  any  until  Aunt  Ollie  died  and  left  him  her  farm.  He  was, 
as  he  expressed  it,  "up  against  it"  there.  Now  he  was  "up 
against  it"  with  Kate.  What  she  decided  upon  and  pro- 
posed to  do  was  all  he  could  do.  She  might  shave  prices, 
and  cut,  and  skimp,  and  haggle  to  buy  material,  and  put  up 
her  building  at  the  least  possible  expense.  She  might  sit 
over  books  and  figure  herself  blind.  He  would  be  driving 
over  the  country,  visiting  with  the  farmers,  booming 
himself  for  a  fat  county  office  maybe,  eating  big  dinners, 
and  being  a  jolly  good  fellow  generally.  Naturally  as 
breathing,  there  came  to  him  a  scheme  whereby  he  could 
buy  at  the  very  lowest  figure  he  could  extract;  then  he 
would  raise  the  price  to  Kate  enough  to  make  him  a 
comfortable  income  besides  his  share  of  the  business.  He 
had  not  walked  the  road  long  until  his  anger  was  all  gone. 


304  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

He  began  planning  the  kind  of  horse  he  would  have  to 
drive,  the  buggy  he  would  want,  and  a  box  in  it  to  carry 
a  hatchet,  a  square,  measures,  an  augur,  other  tools  he 
would  need,  and  by  Jove!  it  would  be  a  dandy  idea  to 
carry  a  bottle  of  the  real  thing.  Many  a  farmer,  for  a 
good  cigar  and  a  few  swallows  of  the  right  thing,  would 
warm  up  and  sign  such  a  contract  as  could  be  got  in  no 
other  manner;  while  he  would  need  it  on  cold  days  himself. 
George  stopped  in  the  moonlight  to  slap  his  leg  and  laugh 
over  the  happy  thought.  "By  George,  Georgie,  my  boy," 
he  said,  "most  days  will  be  cold,  won't  they?" 

He  had  no  word  to  say  to  Kate  of  his  change  of  feeling 
in  the  matter.  He  did  not  want  to  miss  the  chance  of 
twitting  her  at  every  opportunity  he  could  invent  with 
having  thrown  away  half  her  inheritance;  but  he  was  glad 
the  whole  thing  was  settled  so  quickly  and  easily.  He 
was  now  busy  planning  how  he  would  spend  the  money 
Kate  agreed  to  pay  him  for  the  ravine;  but  that  was 
another  rosy  cloud  she  soon  changed  in  colour,  for  she 
told  him  if  he  were  going  to  be  a  partner  he  could  put  in 
what  money  he  had,  as  his  time  was  no  more  valuable 
than  she  could  make  hers  teaching  school  again — in  other 
words,  he  could  buy  his  horse  and  buggy  with  the  price 
she  paid  for  the  location,  so  he  was  forced  to  agree.  He 
was  forced  to  do  a  great  many  things  in  the  following 
months  that  he  hated;  but  he  had  to  do  them  or  be  left 
out  of  the  proposition  altogether. 

Mrs.  Bates  and  Adam  administered  the  Bates  estate 
promptly  and  efficiently.     The  girls  had  their  money  on 


TAKES  THE  BIT  IN  HER  TEETH        305 

time,  the  boys  adjusted  themselves  as  their  circumstances 
admitted.  Mrs.  Bates  had  to  make  so  many  trips  to  town, 
before  the  last  paper  was  signed,  and  the  last  transfer  was 
made,  that  she  felt  she  could  not  go  any  farther,  so  she  did 
not.  Nancy  Ellen  had  reached  the  point  where  she  would 
stop  and  talk  a  few  minutes  to  Kate,  if  she  met  her  on  the 
streets  of  Hartley,  as  she  frequently  did  now;  but  she  would 
not  ask  her  to  come  home  with  her,  because  she  would  not 
bring  herself  in  contact  with  George  Holt.  The  day 
Kate  went  to  Hartley  to  receive  and  deposit  her  check, 
and  start  her  bank  account,  her  mother  asked  her  if  she 
had  any  plans  as  to  what  she  would  do  with  her  money. 
Kate  told  her  in  detail.  Mrs.  Bates  listened  with 
grim  face:  "You  better  leave  it  in  the  bank,"  she 
said,  "and  use  the  interest  to  help  you  live,  or  put  it 
in  good  farm  mortgages,  where  you  can  easily  get  ten 
per  cent." 

Kate  explained  again  and  told  how  she  was  doing  all 
the  buying,  how  she  would  pay  all  bills,  and  keep  the 
books.  It  was  no  use.  Mrs.  Bates  sternly  insisted  that 
she  should  do  no  such  thing.  In  some  way  she  would  be 
defrauded.  In  some  way  she  would  lose  the  money. 
What  she  was  proposing  was  a  man's  work.  Kate  had 
most  of  her  contracts  signed  and  much  material  ordered, 
she  could  not  stop.  Sadly  she  saw  her  mother  turn  from 
her,  declaring  as  she  went  that  Kate  would  lose  every 
cent  she  had,  and  when  she  did  she  need  not  come  hang- 
ing around  her.  She  had  been  warned.  If  she  lost,  she 
could  take  the  consequences.     For  an  instant  Kate  felt 


306  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

that  she  could  not  endure  it  then  she  sprang  after  her 
mother. 

"Oh,  but  I  won't  lose!"  she  cried.  "I'm  keeping  my 
money  in  my  own  hands.  I'm  spending  it  myself. 
Please,  Mother,  come  and  see  the  location,  and  let  me  show 
you  everything." 

"Too  late  now,"  said  Mrs.  Bates  grimly,  "the  thing 
is  done.  The  time  to  have  told  me  was  before  you 
made  any  contracts.  You're  always  taking  the  bit  in 
your  teeth  and  going  ahead.  Well,  go!  But  remember, 
'as  you  make  your  bed,  so  you  can  lie.' " 

"All  right,"  said  Kate,  trying  to  force  a  laugh.  "Don't 
you  worry.  Next  time  you  get  into  a  tight  place  and  want 
to  borrow  a  few  hundreds,  come  to  me." 

Mrs.  Bates  laughed  derisively.  Kate  turned  away  with 
a  faint  sickness  in  her  heart  and  when  half  an  hour  later 
she  met  Nancy  Ellen,  fresh  from  an  interview  with  her 
mother,  she  felt  no  better — far  worse,  in  fact — for  Nancy 
Ellen  certainly  could  say  what  was  in  her  mind  with  free 
and  forceful  directness.  With  deft  tongue  and  nimble 
brain,  she  embroidered  all  Mrs.  Bates  had  said,  and  proph- 
esied more  evil  luck  in  three  minutes  than  her  mother 
could  have  thought  of  in  a  year.  Kate  left  them  with  no 
promise  of  seeing  either  of  them  again,  except  by  acci- 
dent, her  heart  and  brain  filled  with  misgivings.  "Must 
I  always  have  'a  fly  in  my  ointment'?"  she  wailed 
to  herself.  "I  thought  this  morning  this  would  be  the 
happiest  day  of  my  life.  I  felt  as  if  I  were  flying.  Ye 
Gods,  but  wings  were  never  meant  for  me.     Every  time 


TAKES  THE  BIT  IN  HER  TEETH         307 

I  take  them,  down  I  come  kerflop,  mostly  in  a  'gulf  of 
dark  despair,'  as  the  hymn  book  says.  Anyway,  I'll 
keep  my  promise  and  give  the  youngsters  a  treat." 

So  she  bought  each  of  them  an  orange,  some  candy, 
and  goods  for  a  new  Sunday  outfit  and  comfortable 
school  clothing.  Then  she  took  the  hack  for  Walden, 
feeling  in  a  degree  as  she  had  the  day  she  married  George 
Holt.  As  she  passed  the  ravine  and  again  studied  the 
location  her  spirits  arose.  It  was  a  good  scheme.  It 
would  work.  She  would  work  it.  She  would  sell  from 
the  yards  to  Walden  and  the  surrounding  country.  She 
would  see  the  dealers  in  Hartley  and  talk  the  business  over, 
so  she  would  know  she  was  not  being  cheated  in  freight 
rates  when  she  came  to  shipping.  She  stopped  at  Mrs. 
Holt's,  laid  a  deed  before  her  for  her  signature,  and  offered 
her  a  check  for  eight  hundred  for  the  Holt  house  and 
lot,  which  Mrs.  Holt  eagerly  accepted.  They  arranged 
to  move  immediately,  as  the  children  were  missing  school. 
She  had  a  deed  with  her  for  the  ravine,  which  George 
signed  in  Walden,  and  both  documents  were  acknowledged; 
but  she  would  not  give  him  the  money  until  he  had  the 
horse  and  buggy  he  was  to  use,  at  the  gate,  in  the  spring. 

He  wanted  to  start  out  buying  at  once,  but  that  was 
going  too  far  in  the  future  for  Kate.  While  the  stream 
was  low  and  the  banks  firm,  Kate  built  her  dam,  so 
that  it  would  be  ready  for  spring,  put  in  the  abutments, 
and  built  the  bridge.  It  was  not  a  large  dam,  and  not  a 
big  bridge,  but  both  were  solid,  well  constructed,  and  would 
serve  every  purpose.     Then  Kate  set  men  hauling  stone 


308  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

for  the  corner  foundations.  She  hoped  to  work  up  such 
a  trade  and  buy  so  much  and  so  wisely  in  the  summer  that 
she  could  run  all  winter,  so  she  was  building  a  real  mill 
in  the  Bates  way,  which  way  included  letting  the  foun- 
dations freeze  and  settle  over  winter.  That  really  was  an 
interesting  and  a  comfortable  winter. 

Kate  and  George  both  watched  the  children's  studies 
at  night,  worked  their  plans  finer  in  the  daytime,  and 
lived  as  cheaply  and  carefully  as  they  could.  Everything 
was  going  well.  George  was  doing  his  best  to  promote 
the  mill  plan,  to  keep  Kate  satisfied  at  home,  to  steal 
out  after  she  slept,  and  keep  himself  satisfied  in  appetite, 
and  some  ready  money  in  his  pockets,  won  at  games  of 
chance,  at  which  he  was  an  expert,  and  at  cards,  which  he 
handled  like  a  master. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

"As  a  Man  Soweth" 

4T  THE  earliest  possible  moment  in  the  spring,  the 
/%  building  of  the  mill  began.  It  was  scarcely  well 
1  m^  under  way  when  work  was  stopped  by  a  week  of 
heavy  rains.  The  water  filled  the  ravine  to  dangerous 
height  and  the  roaring  of  the  dam  could  be  heard  all  over 
town.  George  talked  of  it  incessantly.  He  said  it  was 
the  sweetest  music  his  ears  had  ever  heard.  Kate  had 
to  confess  that  she  liked  the  sound  herself,  but  she  was 
fearful  over  saying  much  on  the  subject  because  she  was 
so  very  anxious  about  the  stability  of  the  dam.  There 
was  a  day  or  two  of  fine  weather ;  then  the  rains  began  again. 
Kate  said  she  had  all  the  music  she  desired;  she  proposed  to 
be  safe;  so  she  went  and  opened  the  sluiceway  to  re- 
duce the  pressure  on  the  dam.  The  result  was  almost 
immediate.  The  water  gushed  through,  lowering  the 
current  and  lessening  the  fall.  George  grumbled  all 
day,  threatening  half  a  dozen  times  to  shut  the  sluice;  but 
Kate  and  the  carpenter  were  against  him,  so  he  waited 
until  he  came  slipping  home  after  midnight,  his  brain  in 
a  muddle  from  drink,  smoke,  and  cards.  As  he  neared 
the  dam,  he  decided  that  the  reason  he  felt  so  badly  was 
because  he  had  missed  hearing  it  all  day,  but  he  would 

309 


310  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

have  it  to  go  to  sleep  by.  So  he  crossed  the  bridge  and 
shut  the  sluice  gate.  Even  as  he  was  doing  it  the 
thunder  pealed;  lightning  flashed,  and  high  Heaven  gave 
him  warning  that  he  was  doing  a  dangerous  thing;  but 
all  his  life  he  had  done  what  he  pleased;  there  was  no 
probability  that  he  would  change  then.  He  needed  the 
roar  of  the  dam  to  quiet  his  nerves. 

The  same  roar  that  put  him  to  sleep,  awakened  Kate. 
She  lay  wondering  at  it  and  fearing.  She  raised  her 
window  to  listen.  The  rain  was  falling  in  torrents,  while 
the  roar  was  awful,  so  much  worse  than  it  had  been  when 
she  fell  asleep,  that  she  had  a  suspicion  of  what  might 
have  caused  it.  She  went  to  George's  room  and  shook 
him  awake. 

"Listen  to  the  dam!"  she  cried.  "It  will  go,  as 
sure  as  fate.  George,  did  you,  Oh,  did  you,  close  the  sluice- 
gate when  you  came  home?', 

He  was  half  asleep,  and  too  defiant  from  drink  to  take 
his  usual  course. 

"Sure!"  he  said.  "Sweesish  mushich  ever  hearsh. 
Push  me  shleep." 

He  fell  back  on  the  pillow  and  went  on  sleeping.  Kate 
tried  again  to  waken  him,  but  he  struck  at  her  savagely. 
She  ran  to  her  room,  hurried  into  a  few  clothes,  and  get- 
ting the  lantern,  started  toward  the  bridge.  At  the  gate 
she  stepped  into  water.  As  far  as  she  could  see  above 
the  dam  the  street  was  covered.  She  waded  to  the 
bridge,  which  was  under  at  each  end  but  still  bare  in 
the  middle,  where  it  was  slightly  higher.  Kate  crossed  it 


"AS  A  MAN  SOWETH"  311 

and  started  down  the  yard  toward  the  dam.  The  earth 
was  softer  there,  and  she  mired  in  places  almost  to  her 
knees.  At  the  dam,  the  water  was  tearing  around  each 
end  in  a  mad  race,  carrying  earth  and  everything  before 
it.  The  mill  side  was  lower  than  the  street.  The  cur- 
rent was  so  broad  and  deep  she  could  not  see  where 
the  sluice  was.  She  hesitated  a  second  to  try  to  locate 
it  from  the  mill  behind  her;  and  in  that  instant  there 
was  a  crack  and  a  roar,  a  mighty  rush  that  swept  her 
from  her  feet  and  washed  away  the  lantern.  Nothing 
saved  her  but  the  trees  on  the  bank.  She  struck  one, 
clung  to  it,  pulled  herself  higher,  and  in  the  blackness 
gripped  the  tree,  while  she  heard  the  dam  going  gradually 
after  the  first  break. 

There  was  no  use  to  scream,  no  one  could  have  heard 
her.  The  storm  raved  on;  Kate  clung  to  her  tree,  with 
each  flash  of  lightning  trying  to  see  the  dam.  At  last 
she  saw  that  it  was  not  all  gone.  She  was  not  much 
concerned  about  herself.  She  knew  the  tree  would  hold. 
Eagerly  she  strained  her  eyes  toward  the  dam.  She 
could  feel  the  water  dropping  lower,  while  the  roar  sub- 
sided to  a  wild  rush,  and  with  flashes  of  lightning  she 
could  see  what  she  thought  was  at  least  half  of  the  dam 
holding  firmly.  By  that  time  Kate  began  to  chill.  She 
wrapped  her  arms  around  the  tree,  and  pressing  her 
cheek  against  the  rough  bark,  she  cried  as  hard  as  she 
could  and  did  not  care.  God  would  not  hear;  the  neigh- 
bours could  not.  She  shook  and  cried  until  she  was  worn 
out.     By  that   time   the  water  was  only  a  muddy  flow 


3i2  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

around  her  ankles,  if  she  had  a  light  she  could  wade 
back  to  the  bridge  and  reach  home.  But  if  she  missed 
the  bridge  and  went  into  the  ravine,  the  current  would  be 
too  strong  for  her.  She  held  with  one  arm  and  tried 
to  wipe  her  face  with  the  other  hand.  "What  a  fool 
to  cry!"  she  said.  "As  if  there  were  any  more  water 
needed  here!" 

Then  she  saw  a  light  in  the  house,  and  the  figures 
of  the  children,  carrying  it  from  room  to  room,  so  she 
knew  that  one  of  them  had  awakened  for  a  drink,  or 
with  the  storm,  and  they  had  missed  her.  Then  she  could 
see  them  at  the  front  door,  Adam's  sturdy  feet  planted 
widely  apart,  bracing  him,  as  he  held  up  the  lamp  which 
flickered  in  the  wind.  Then  she  could  hear  his  voice 
shouting:  "Mother!"  Instantly  Kate  answered.  Then 
she  was  sorry  she  had,  for  both  of  them  began  to  scream 
wildly.  There  was  a  second  of  that,  then  even  the 
children  realized  its  futility. 

"She  is  out  there  in  the  water,  we  got  to  get  her,"  said 
Adam.     "We  got  to  do  it!" 

He  started  with  the  light  held  high.  The  wind  blew  it 
out.  They  had  to  go  back  to  relight  it.  Kate  knew  they 
would  burn  their  fingers,  and  she  prayed  they  would  not 
set  the  house  on  fire.  When  the  light  showed  again,  at 
the  top  of  her  lungs  she  screamed :  "Adam,  set  the  broom 
on  fire  and  carry  it  to  the  end  of  the  bridge;  the  water 
isn't  deep  enough  to  hurt  you."  She  tried  twice,  then 
she  saw  him  give  Polly  the  lamp,  and  run  down  the  hall. 
He  came  back  in  an  instant  with  the  broom.     Polly 


"AS  A  MAN  SOWETH"  313 

held  the  lamp  high,  Adam  went  down  the  walk  to  the 
gate  and  started  up  the  sidewalk.  "He's  using  his  head," 
said  Kate  to  the  trees.  "He's  going  to  wait  until  he 
reaches  the  bridge  to  start  his  light,  so  it  will  last  longer. 
That  is  Bates,  anyway.    Thank  God!" 

Adam  scratched  several  matches  before  he  got  the 
broom  well  ignited,  then  he  held  it  high,  and  by  its  light 
found  the  end  of  the  bridge.  Kate  called  to  him  to  stop 
and  plunging  and  splashing  through  mud  and  water,  she 
reached  the  bridge  before  the  broom  burned  out.  There 
she  clung  to  the  railing  she  had  insisted  upon,  and  felt 
her  way  across  to  the  boy.  His  thin  cotton  night  shirt 
was  plastered  to  his  sturdy  little  body.  As  she  touched 
him  Kate  lifted  him  in  her  arms,  and  almost  hugged  the 
life  from  him. 

"You  big  man!"  she  said.  "You  could  help  Mother! 
Good  for  you!" 

"Is  the  dam  gone?"  he  asked. 

"Part  of  it,"  said  Kate,  sliding  her  feet  before  her,  as 
she  waded  toward  Polly  in  the  doorway. 

"Did  Father  shut  the  sluice-gate,  to  hear  the  roar?" 

Kate  hesitated.  The  shivering  body  in  her  arms  felt 
so  small  to  her. 

"I  'spect  he  did,"  said  Adam.  "All  day  he  was  fussing 
after  you  stopped  the  roar."  Then  he  added  casually: 
"The  old  fool  ought-a  known  better.  I  'spect  he  was 
drunk  again!" 

"Oh,  Adam!"  cried  Kate,  setting  him  on  the  porch. 
"Oh,  Adam!    What  makes  you  say  that?" 


3i4  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

"Oh,  all  of  them  at  school  say  that,"  scoffed  Adam. 
"Everybody  knows  it  but  you,  don't  they,  Polly?" 

"Sure!"  said  Polly.  "Most  every  night;  but  don't 
you  mind,  Mother,  Adam  and  I  will  take  care  of  you." 

Kate  fell  on  her  knees  and  gathered  both  of  them  in  a 
crushing  hug  for  an  instant;  then  she  helped  them  into 
dry  nightgowns  and  to  bed.  As  she  covered  them  she 
stooped  and  kissed  each  of  them  before  she  went  to  warm 
and  put  on  dry  clothes,  and  dry  her  hair.  It  was  almost 
dawn  when  she  walked  to  George  Holt's  door  and  looked 
in  at  him  lying  stretched  in  deep  sleep. 

"You  may  thank  your  God  for  your  children,"  she 
said.  "If  it  hadn't  been  for  them,  I  know  what  I  would 
have  done  to  you." 

Then  she  went  to  her  room  and  lay  down  to  rest  until 
dawn.  She  was  up  at  the  usual  time  and  had  breakfast 
ready  for  the  children.  As  they  were  starting  to  school 
George  came  into  the  room. 

"Mother,"  said  Polly,  "there  is  a  lot  of  folks  over 
around  the  dam.    What  shall  we  tell  them?" 

Kate's  heart  stopped.  She  had  heard  that  question 
before. 

"Tell  them  the  truth,"  said  Adam  scornfully,  before 
Kate  could  answer.  "Tell  them  that  Mother  opened  the 
sluiceway  to  save  the  dam  and  Father  shut  it  to  hear  it 
roar,   and  it  busted!" 

"Shall  I,  Mother?"  asked  Polly. 

A  slow  whiteness  spread  over  George's  face;  he  started 
down  the  hall  to  look. 


"AS  A  MAN  SOWETH"  315 

"Tell  them  exactly  what  you  please,"  said  Kate,  "only 
you  watch  yourself  like  a  hawk.  If  you  tell  one  word 
not  the  way  it  was,  or  in  any  way  different  from  what 
happened,  I'll  punish  you  severely." 

"May  I  tell  them  I  held  the  lamp  while  Adam  got  you 
out  of  the  water?"  asked  Polly.  "That  would  be  true, 
you  know." 

George  turned  to  listen,  his  face  still  whiter. 

"Yes,  that  would  be  true,"  said  Kate,  "but  if  you  tell 
them  that,  the  first  thing  they  will  ask  will  be  'where  was 
your  father?'     What  will  you  say  then?" 

"Why,  we'll  say  that  he  was  so  drunk  we  couldn't 
wake  him  up,"  said  Polly  conclusively.  "We  pulled  him, 
an'  we  shook  him,  an'  we  yelled  at  him.  Didn't  we, 
Adam?" 

"I  was  not  drunk!"  shouted  George. 

"Oh,  yes,  you  were,"  said  Adam.  "You  smelled  all 
sour,  like  it  does  at  the  saloon  door!" 

George  made  a  rush  at  Adam.  The  boy  spread  his 
feet  and  put  up  his  hands,  but  never  flinched  or  moved. 
Kate  looking  on  felt  something  in  her  heart  that  never 
had  been  there  before.  She  caught  George's  arm,  as  he 
reached  the  child. 

"You  go  on  to  school,  little  folks,"  she  said.  "And 
for  Mother's  sake  try  not  to  talk  at  all.  If  people  ques- 
tion you,  tell  them  to  ask  Mother.  I'd  be  so  proud  of 
you,  if  you  would  do  that." 

"/  willy  if  you'll  hold  me  and  kiss  me  again  like  you  did 
last  night  when  you  got  out  of  the  water,"  said  Polly. 


3i6  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

"It  is  a  bargain,"  said  Kate.  "How  about  you, 
Adam?" 

"I  will  for  that,  too,"  said  Adam,  "but  I'd  like  awful  well 
to  tell  how  fast  the  water  went,  and  how  it  poured  and 
roared,  while  I  held  the  light,  and  you  got  across.  Gee, 
it  was  awful,  Mother!  So  black,  and  so  crashy,  and  so 
deep.     I'd /z'^  to  tell!" 

"But  you  wont  if  I  ask  you  not  to?"  queried  Kate. 

"I  will  not,"  said  Adam. 

Kate  went  down  on  her  knees  again,  she  held  out  her 
arms  and  both  youngsters  rushed  to  her.  After  they 
were  gone,  she  and  George  Holt  looked  at  each  other  an 
instant,  then  Kate  turned  to  her  work.  He  followed: 
"Kate "    he    began. 

"No  use!"  said  Kate.  "If  you'll  go  out  and  look  at  the 
highest  water  mark,  you  can  easily  imagine  what  I  had  to 
face  last  night  when  I  had  to  cross  the  bridge  to  open 
the  sluice-gate,  or  the  bridge  would  have  gone,  too.  If  the 
children  had  not  wakened  with  the  storm,  and  hunted  me, 
I'd  have  had  to  stay  over  there  until  morning,  if  I  could 
have  clung  to  the  tree  that  long.  First  they  rescued  me; 
and  then  they  rescued  you,  if  you  only  but  knew  it.  By 
using  part  of  the  money  I  had  saved  for  the  house,  I  can 
rebuild  the  dam;  but  I'm  done  with  you.  We're  partners 
no  longer.  Not  with  business,  money,  or  in  any  other 
way,  will  I  ever  trust  you  again.  Sit  down  there  and  eat 
your  breakfast,  and  then  leave  my  sight." 

Instead  George  put  on  his  old  clothing,  crossed  the 
bridge,  and  worked  all  day  with  all  his  might  trying  to 


"AS  A  MAN  SOWETH"  317 

gather  building  material  out  of  the  water,  save  debris 
from  the  dam,  to  clear  the  village  street.  At  noon  he  came 
over  and  got  a  drink,  and  a  piece  of  bread.  At  night  he 
worked  until  he  could  see  no  longer,  and  then  ate  some 
food  from  the  cupboard,  and  went  to  bed.  He  was  up 
and  at  work  before  daybreak  in  the  morning,  and  for  two 
weeks  he  kept  this  up,  until  he  had  done  much  to  repair 
the  work  of  the  storm.  The  dam  he  almost  rebuilt 
himself,  as  soon  as  the  water  lowered  to  normal  again. 
Kate  knew  what  he  was  trying  to  do,  and  knew  also  that 
in  a  month  he  had  the  village  pitying  him,  and  blaming 
her  because  he  was  working  himself  to  death,  and  she 
was  allowing  it. 

She  doggedly  went  on  with  her  work;  the  contracts 
were  made;  she  was  forced  to.  As  the  work  neared 
completion,  her  faith  in  the  enterprise  grew.  She  stud- 
ied by  the  hour  everything  she  could  find  pertaining 
to  the  business.  When  the  machinery  began  to  arrive, 
George  frequently  spoke  about  having  timber  ready  to 
begin  work  on,  but  he  never  really  believed  the  thing 
which  did  happen,  would  happen,  until  the  first  load  of 
logs  slowly  crossed  the  bridge  and  began  unloading  in 
the  yards.  A  few  questions  elicited  from  the  driver  the 
reply  that  he  had  sold  the  timber  to  young  Adam  Bates 
of  Bates  Corners,  who  was  out  buying  right  and  left 
and  paying  cash  on  condition  the  seller  did  his  own 
delivering.  George  saw  the  scheme,  and  that  it  was 
good.  Also  the  logs  were  good,  while  the  price  was 
less  than  he  hoped  to    pay  for  such   timber.     His  soul 


3i8  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

was  filled  with  bitterness.  The  mill  was  his  scheme.  He 
had  planned  it  all.  Those  thieving  Bates  had  stolen  his 
plan,  and  his  location,  and  his  home,  and  practically 
separated  him  from  his  wife  and  children.  It  was  his  mill, 
and  all  he  was  getting  from  it  was  to  work  with  all  his 
might,  and  not  a  decent  word  from  morning  until  night. 
That  day  instead  of  working  as  before,  he  sat  in  the  shade 
most  of  the  time,  and  that  night  instead  of  going  to  bed 
he  went  down  town. 

When  the  mill  was  almost  finished  Kate  employed  two 
men  who  lived  in  Walden,  but  had  been  working  in  the 
Hartley  mills  for  years.  They  were  honest  men  of  much  ex- 
perience. Kate  made  the  better  of  them  foreman,  and  con- 
sulted with  him  in  every  step  of  completing  the  mill,  and 
setting  up  the  machinery.  She  watched  everything  with 
sharp  eyes, often  making  suggestions  that  were  useful  about 
the  placing  of  different  parts  as  a  woman  would  arrange 
them.  Some  of  these  the  men  laughed  at,  some  they 
were  more  than  glad  to  accept.  When  the  engine  was 
set  up,  the  big  saw  in  place,  George  went  to  Kate. 

"See  here!"  he  said  roughly.  "I  know  I  was  wrong 
about  the  sluice-gate.  I  was  a  fool  to  shut  it  with  the 
water  that  high,  but  I've  learned  my  lesson;  I'll  never 
touch  it  again;  I've  worked  like  a  dog  for  weeks  to  pay 
for  it;  now  where  do  I  come  in?  What's  my  job,  how 
much  is  my  share  of  the  money,  and  when  do  I  get  it?" 

"The  trouble  with  you,  George,  is  that  you  have  to 
learn  a  new  lesson  about  every  thing  you  attempt.  You 
can't  carry  a  lesson  about  one  thing  in  your  mind,  and 


"AS  A  MAN  SOWETH"  319 

apply  it  to  the  next  thing  that  comes  up.  I  know  you 
have  worked,  and  I  know  why.  It  is  fair  that  you  should 
have  something,  but  I  can't  say  what,  just  now.  Having 
to  rebuild  the  dam,  and  with  a  number  of  incidentals  that 
have  come  up,  in  spite  of  the  best  figuring  I  could  do,  I 
have  been  forced  to  use  my  money  saved  for  rebuilding  the 
house;  and  even  with  that,  I  am  coming  out  a  hundred  or 
two  short.  I'm  strapped;  and  until  money  begins  to  come 
in  I  have  none  myself.  The  first  must  go  toward  paying 
the  men's  wages,  the  next  for  timber.  If  Jim  Milton  can 
find  work  for  you,  go  to  work  at  the  mill,  and  when  we  get 
started  I'll  pay  you  what  is  fair  and  just,  you  may  depend 
on  that.  If  he  hasn't  work  for  you,  you'll  have  to  find 
a  job  at  something  else." 

"Do  you  mean  that?"  he  asked  wonderingly. 

"I  mean  it,"  said  Kate. 

"After  stealing  my  plan,  and  getting  my  land  for 
nothing,  you'd  throw  me  out  entirely?"  he  demanded. 

"You  entreated  me  to  put  all  I  had  into  your  plan, 
you  told  me  repeatedly  the  ravine  was  worth  nothing, 
you  were  not  even  keeping  up  the  taxes  on  it  until  I  came 
and  urged  you  to,  the  dam  is  used  merely  for  water,  the 
engine  furnishes  the  real  power,  and  if  you  are  thrown 
out,  you  have  thrown  yourself  out.  You  have  had 
every  chance." 

"You  are  going  to  keep  your  nephew  on  the  buying 
job?"  he  asked. 

"I  am,"  said  Kate.  "You  can  have  no  job  that  will 
give  you  a  chance  to  involve  me  financially." 


320  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

"Then  give  me  Milton's  place.  It's  so  easy  a  baby 
could  do  it,  and  the  wages  you  have  promised  him  are 
scandalous,"  said  George. 

Kate  laughed.  "Oh,  George,"  she  said,  "you  can't 
mean  that!  Of  all  your  hare-brained  ideas,  that  you 
could  operate  that  saw,  is  the  wildest.  Of  course  you 
could  start  the  engine,  and  set  the  saw  running — I  could 
myself;  but  to  regulate  its  speed,  to  control  it  with  judg- 
ment, you  could  no  more  do  it  than  Polly.  As  for  wages, 
Milton  is  working  for  less  than  he  got  in  Hartley,  be- 
cause he  can  be  at  home,  and  save  his  hack  fare,  as  you 
know." 

George  went  over  to  Jim  Milton,  and  after  doing  all 
he  could  see  to  do  and  ordering  Milton  to  do  several 
things  he  thought  might  be  done,  he  said  casually:  "Of 
course  I  am  Boss  around  this  shack,  but  this  is  new  to  me. 
You  fellows  will  have  to  tell  me  what  to  do  until  I  get 
my  bearings.  As  soon  as  we  get  to  running,  I'll  be  yard- 
master,  and  manage  the  selling  and  shipping.  I'm  good 
at  figures,  and  that  would  be  the  best  place  for  me." 

"You'll  have  to  settle  with  Mrs.  Holt  about  that," 
said  Jim  Milton. 

"Of  course,"  said  George.  "Isn't  she  a  wonder?  With 
my  help,  we'll  soon  wipe  the  Hartley  mills  off  the  map, 
and  be  selling  till  Grand  Rapids  will  get  her  eye  peeled. 
With  you  to  run  the  machinery,  me  to  manage  the  sales, 
and  her  to  keep  the  books,  we  got  a  combination  to  beat 
the  world." 

"In    the    meantime,"    said   Jim   Milton    dryly,    "you 


"AS  A  MAN  SOWETH"  321 

might  take  that  scoop  shovel  and  clean  the  shavings  and 
blocks  off  this  floor.  Leave  me  some  before  the  engine 
to  start  the  first  fire,  and  shovel  the  rest  into  that  bin 
there  where  it's  handy.  It  isn't  safe  to  start  with  so  much 
loose,  dry  stuff  lying  around." 

George  went  to  work  with  the  scoop  shovel,  but  he 
watched  every  movement  Jim  Milton  made  about  the 
engine  and  machinery.  Often  he  dropped  the  shovel 
and  stood  studying  things  out  for  himself,  and  asking 
questions.  Not  being  sure  of  his  position,  Jim  Milton 
answered  him  patiently,  and  showed  him  all  he  wanted 
to  know;  but  he  constantly  cautioned  him  not  to  touch 
anything,  or  try  to  start  the  machinery  himself,  as  he 
might  lose  control  of  the  gauge  and  break  the  saw,  or 
let  the  power  run  away  with  him.  George  scoffed  at 
the  idea  of  danger  and  laughed  at  the  simplicity  of  the 
engine  and  machinery.  There  was  little  for  him  to  do.  He 
hated  to  be  seen  cleaning  up  the  debris;  men  who  stopped 
in  passing  kept  telling  what  a  fine  fellow  young  Bates  was, 
what  good  timber  he  was  sending  in.  Several  of  them  told 
George  frankly  they  thought  that  was  to  be  his  job.  He 
was  so  ashamed  of  that,  he  began  instant  improvisation. 

"That  was  the  way  we  first  planned  things,"  he  said 
boastfully,  "but  when  it  came  to  working  out  our  plans,  we 
found  I  would  be  needed  here  till  I  learned  the  business, 
and  then  I'm  going  on  the  road.  I  am  going  to  be  the 
salesman.  To  travel,  dress  well,  eat  well,  flirt  with  the 
pretty  girls,  and  take  big  lumber  orders  will  just  about  suit 
little  old  Georgie." 


322  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

"Wonder  you  remembered  to  put  the  orders  in  at  all," 
said  Jim  Milton  dryly. 

George  glared  at  him.  "Well,  just  remember  whom  you 
take  orders  from,"  he  said,  pompously. 

"I  take  them  from  Mrs.  Holt,  and  nobody  else,"  said 
Milton,  with  equal  assurance.  "And  I've  yet  to  hear 
her  say  the  first  word  about  this  wonderful  travelling 
proposition.  She  thinks  she  will  do  well  to  fill  home  orders 
and  ship  to  a  couple  of  factories  she  already  has  contracts 
with.  Sure  you  didn't  dream  that  travelling  proposition, 
George?" 

At  that  instant  George  wished  he  could  slay  Jim  Mil- 
ton. All  day  he  brooded  and  grew  sullen  and  ugly.  By 
noon  he  quit  working  and  went  down  town.  By  supper- 
time  he  went  home  to  prove  to  his  wife  that  he  was  all 
right.  She  happened  to  be  coming  across  from  the  mill, 
where  she  had  helped  Milton  lay  the  first  fire  under  the 
boiler  ready  to  touch  off",  and  had  seen  the  first  log  on  the 
set  carriage.  It  had  been  agreed  that  she  was  to  come 
over  at  opening  time  in  the  morning  and  start  the  ma- 
chinery. She  was  a  proud  and  eager  woman  when  she 
crossed  the  bridge  and  started  down  the  street  toward 
the  gate.  From  the  opposite  direction  came  George,  so 
unsteady  that  he  was  running  into  tree  boxes,  then 
lifting  his  hat  and  apologizing  to  them  for  his  awkward- 
ness. Kate  saw  at  a  glance  that  he  might  fall  any  instant. 
Her  only  thought  was  to  help  him  from  the  street,  to  where 
children  would  not  see  him. 

She  went  to  him  and  taking  his  arm  started  down  the 


"AS  A  MAN  SOWETH"  323 

walk  with  him.  He  took  off  his  hat  to  her  also,  and  walked 
with  wavering  dignity,  setting  his  steps  as  if  his  legs  were 
not  long  enough  to  reach  the  walk,  so  that  each  step 
ended  in  a  decided  thump.  Kate  could  see  the  neighbours 
watching  at  their  windows,  and  her  own  children  playing 
on  the  roof  of  the  woodshed.  When  the  children  saw 
their  parents,  they  both  stopped  playing  to  stare  at  them. 
Then  suddenly,  shrill  and  high,  arose  Adam's  childish 
voice : 

"Father  came  home  the  other  night, 
Tried  to  blow  out  the  'lectric  light, 
Blew  and  blew  with  all  his  might, 
And  the  blow  almost  killed  Mother." 

Polly  joined  him,  and  they  sang  and  shrilled,  and 
shrieked  it;  they  jumped  up  and  down  and  laughed  and 
repeated  it  again  and  again.  Kate  guided  George  to  his 
room  and  gave  him  a  shove  that  landed  him  on  his  bed. 
Then  to  hush  the  children  she  called  them  to  supper. 
They  stopped  suddenly,  as  soon  as  they  entered  the 
kitchen  door,  and  sat  sorry  and  ashamed  while  she  went 
around,  her  face  white,  her  lips  closed,  preparing  their  food. 
George  was  asleep.  The  children  ate  alone,  as  she  could 
take  no  food.  Later  she  cleaned  the  kitchen,  put  the  chil- 
dren to  bed,  and  sat  on  the  front  porch  step  looking  at  the 
mill,  wondering,  hoping,  planning,  praying  unconsciously. 
When  she  went  to  bed  at  ten  o'clock  George  was  still 
asleep. 


324  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

He  awakened  shortly  after,  burning  with  heat  and 
thirst.  He  arose  and  slipped  to  the  back  porch  for  a 
drink.  Water  was  such  an  aggravation,  he  crossed  the 
yard,  went  out  the  back  gate,  and  down  the  alley.  When 
he  came  back  up  the  street,  he  was  pompously,  maliciously, 
dangerously  drunk.  Either  less  or  more  would  have 
been  better.  When  he  came  in  sight  of  the  mill,  standing 
new  and  shining  in  the  moonlight,  he  was  a  lord  of  creation, 
ready  to  work  creation  to  his  will.  He  would  go  over  and 
see  if  things  were  all  right.  But  he  did  not  cross  the 
bridge,  he  went  down  the  side  street,  and  entered  the  yard 
at  the  back.  The  doors  were  closed  and  locked,  but 
there  was  as  yet  no  latch  on  the  sliding  windows  above 
the  work  bench.  He  could  push  them  open  from  the 
ground.  He  leaned  a  board  against  the  side  of  the  mill, 
set  his  foot  on  it,  and  pulled  himself  up,  so  that  he  could 
climb  on  the  bench. 

That  much  achieved,  he  looked  around  him.  After  a 
time  his  eyes  grew  accustomed  to  the  darkness,  so  that 
he  could  see  his  way  plainly.  Muddled  half-thoughts 
began  to  filter  through  his  brain.  He  remembered  he 
was  abused.  He  was  out  of  it.  He  remembered  that  he 
was  not  the  buyer  for  the  mill.  He  remembered  how  the 
men  had  laughed  when  he  had  said  that  he  was  to  be  the 
salesman.  He  remembered  that  Milton  had  said  that 
he  was  not  to  touch  the  machinery.  He  at  once  slid 
from  the  bench  and  went  to  the  boiler.  He  opened  the 
door  of  the  fire-box  and  saw  the  kindling  laid  ready  to 
light,  to  get  up  steam.     He  looked  at  the  big  log  on  the 


"AS  A  MAN  SOWETH"  325 

set  carnage.  They  had  planned  to  start  with  a  splurge  in 
the  morning.  Kate  was  to  open  the  throttle  that  started 
the  machinery.  He  decided  to  show  them  that  they  were 
not  so  smart.  He  would  give  them  a  good  surprise  by 
sawing  the  log.  That  would  be  a  joke  on  them  to  brag 
about  the  remainder  of  his  life.  He  took  matches  from 
his  pocket  and  started  the  fire.  It  seemed  to  his  fevered 
imagination  that  it  burned  far  too  slowly.  He  shoved  in 
more  kindling,  shavings,  ends  left  from  siding.  This 
smothered  his  fire,  so  he  made  trip  after  trip  to  the  tinder 
box,  piling  in  armloads  of  dry,  inflammable  stuff. 

Then  suddenly  the  flames  leaped  up.  He  slammed 
shut  the  door  and  started  toward  the  saw.  He  could  not 
make  it  work.  He  jammed  and  pulled  everything  he 
could  reach.  Soon  he  realized  the  heat  was  becoming  in- 
tense, and  turned  to  the  boiler  to  see  that  the  fire-box 
was  red  hot  almost  all  over,  white  hot  in  places. 

"My  God!"  he  muttered.  "Too  hot!  Got  to  cool  that 
down." 

Then  he  saw  the  tank  and  the  dangling  hose,  and 
remembered  that  he  had  not  filled  the  boiler.  Taking 
down  the  hose,  he  opened  the  watercock,  stuck  in  the 
nozzle,  and  turned  on  the  water  full  force.  Windows 
were  broken  across  the  street.  Parts  of  the  fire-box, 
boiler,  and  fire  flew  everywhere.  The  walls  blew  out, 
the  roof  lifted  and  came  down,  the  fire  raged  among 
the  new,  dry  timbers  of  the  mill. 

When  her  windows  blew  in,  Kate  was  thrown  from  her 
bed  to  the  floor.    She  lay  stunned  a  second,  then  dragged 


326  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

herself  up  to  look  across  the  street.  There  was  nothing 
where  the  low  white  expanse  of  roof  had  spread  an  hour 
before,  while  a  red  glare  was  creeping  everywhere  over 
the  ground.  She  ran  to  George's  room  and  found  it 
empty.  She  ran  to  the  kitchen,  calling  him,  and  found 
the  back  door  standing  open.  She  rushed  back  to  her 
room  and  began  trying  to  put  on  her  dress  over  her 
nightrobe.  She  could  not  control  her  shaking  fingers, 
while  at  each  step  she  cut  her  feet  on  broken  glass.  She 
reached  the  front  door  as  the  children  came  screaming 
with  fright.  In  turning  to  warn  them  about  the  glass 
she  stumbled  on  the  top  step,  pitched  forward  headlong, 
then  lay  still.  The  neighbours  carried  her  back  to  her  bed, 
called  the  doctor,  and  then  saved  all  the  logs  in  the  yard 
they  could.  The  following  day,  when  the  fire  had  burned 
itself  out,  the  undertaker  hunted  assiduously,  but  nothing 
could  be  found  to  justify  a  funeral. 


"CHAPTER  XX 
"For  a  Good  Girl" 

FOR  a  week,  Kate  lay  so  dazed  she  did  not  care 
whether  she  lived  or  died;  then  she  slowly  crept 
back  to  life,  realizing  that  whether  she  cared  or 
not,  she  must  live.  She  was  too  young,  too  strong,  to 
quit  because  she  was  soul  sick;  she  had  to  go  on.  She 
had  life  to  face  for  herself  and  her  children.  She  wondered 
dully  about  her  people,  but  as  none  of  the  neighbours 
who  had  taken  care  of  her  said  anything  concerning  them, 
she  realized  that  they  had  not  been  there.  At  first  she 
was  almost  glad.  They  were  forthright  people.  They 
would  have  had  something  to  say;  they  would  have  said 
it  tersely  and  to  the  point. 

Adam,  3d,  had  wound  up  her  affairs  speedily  by 
selling  the  logs  he  had  bought  for  her  to  the  Hartley 
mills,  paying  what  she  owed,  and  depositing  the  remainder 
in  the  Hartley  Bank  to  her  credit;  but  that  remainder 
was  less  than  one  hundred  dollars.  That  winter  was  a 
long,  dreadful  nightmare  to  Kate.  Had  it  not  been  for 
Aunt  Ollie,  they  would  have  been  hungry  some  of  the 
time;  they  were  cold  most  of  it.  For  weeks  Kate  thought 
of  sending  for  her  mother,  or  going  to  her;  then  as  not 
even  a  line  came  from   any  of  her  family,  she  realized 

327 


328  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

that  they  resented  her  losing  that  much  Bates  money 
so  bitterly  that  they  wished  to  have  nothing  to  do  with 
her.  Often  she  sat  for  hours  staring  straight  before  her, 
trying  to  straighten  out  the  tangle  she  had  made  of 
her  life.  As  if  she  had  not  suffered  enough  in  the  reality 
of  living,  she  now  lived  over  in  day  and  night  dreams, 
hour  by  hour,  her  time  with  George  Holt,  and  gained 
nothing  thereby. 

All  winter  Kate  brooded,  barely  managing  to  keep 
alive,  and  the  children  in  school.  As  spring  opened,  she 
shook  herself,  arose,  and  went  to  work.  It  was  not 
planned,  systematic,  effective,  Bates  work.  Piecemeal 
she  did  anything  she  saw  needed  the  doing.  The  children 
helped  to  make  garden  and  clean  the  yard.  Then  all  of 
them  went  out  to  Aunt  Ollie's  and  made  a  contract 
to  plant  and  raise  potatoes  and  vegetables  on  shares. 
They  passed  a  neglected  garden  on  the  way,  and 
learning  that  the  woman  of  the  house  was  ill,  and  the 
man  rushed  with  getting  his  crops  in,  Kate  stopped 
and  offered  to  tend  it  for  enough  cords  of  windfall 
wood  to  pay  her  a  fair  price,  this  to  be  delivered  in 
mid-summer. 

With  food  and  fire  assured,  Kate  ripped  up  some  of 
George's  clothing,  washed,  pressed,  turned,  and  made 
Adam  warm  clothes  for  school.  She  even  achieved  a 
dress  for  Polly  by  making  a  front  and  back  from  a  pair 
of  her  father's  trouser  legs,  and  setting  in  side  pieces,  a 
yoke  and  sleeves  from  one  of  her  old  skirts.  George's 
underclothing  she  cut   down   for  both  of  the  children; 


"FOR  A  GOOD  GIRL"  329 

then  drew  another  check  for  taxes  and  second-hand 
books.  While  she  was  in  Hartley  in  the  fall  paying 
taxes,  she  stopped  at  a  dry  goods  store  for  thread,  and 
heard  a  customer  asking  for  knitted  mittens,  which  were 
not  in  the  stock.  After  he  had  gone,  she  arranged  with 
the  merchant  for  a  supply  of  yarn  which  she  carried  home 
and  began  to  knit  into  mittens  such  as  had  been  called 
for.  She  used  every  minute  of  leisure  during  the  day, 
she  worked  hours  into  the  night,  and  soon  small  sums 
began  coming  her  way.  When  she  had  a  supply  of 
teamster's  heavy  mittens,  she  began  on  fancy  coloured 
ones  for  babies  and  children,  sometimes  crocheting, 
sometimes  using  needles.  Soon  she  started  both  children 
on  the  rougher  work  with  her.  They  were  glad  to  help 
for  they  had  a  lively  remembrance  of  one  winter  of  cold 
and  hunger,  with  no  Christmas.  That  there  were  many 
things  she  might  have  done  that  would  have  made  more 
money  with  less  exertion  Kate  never  seemed  to  realize. 
She  did  the  obvious  thing.  Her  brain  power  seemed  to 
be  on  a  level  with  that  of  Adam  and  Polly. 

When  the  children  began  to  carry  home  Christmas  talk, 
Kate  opened  her  mouth  to  say  the  things  that  had  been 
said  to  her  as  a  child;  then  tightly  closed  it.  She  began 
getting  up  earlier,  sitting  up  later,  knitting  feverishly. 
Luckily  the  merchant  could  sell  all  she  could  furnish.  As 
the  time  drew  nearer,  she  gathered  from  the  talk  of  the 
children  what  was  the  deepest  desire  of  their  hearts. 
One  day  a  heavy  wind  driving  ice-coated  trees  in  the 
back  yard  broke  quite  a  large  limb  from  a  cherry  tree. 


330  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

Kate  dragged  it  into  the  woodhouse  to  make  firewood. 
She  leaned  it  against  the  wall  to  wait  until  the  ice  melted, 
and  as  it  stood  there  in  its  silvery  coat,  she  thought  how 
like  a  small  tree  the  branch  was  shaped,  and  how  pretty 
it  looked.  After  the  children  had  gone  to  school  the  next 
day  she  shaped  it  with  the  hatchet  and  saw,  and  fastened  it 
in  a  small  box.  This  she  carried  to  her  bedroom  and 
locked  the  door.  She  had  not  much  idea  what  she  was  go- 
ing to  do,  but  she  kept  thinking.  Soon  she  found  enough 
time  to  wrap  every  branch  carefully  with  the  red  tissue 
paper  her  red  knitting  wool  came  in,  and  to  cover  the  box 
smoothly.  Then  she  thought  of  the  country  Christmas 
trees  she  had  seen  decorated  with  popcorn  and  cran- 
berries. She  popped  the  corn  at  night  and  the  following 
day  made  a  trip  up  the  ravine,  where  she  gathered  all  the 
bittersweet  berries,  swamp  holly,  and  wild  rose  seed  heads 
she  could  find.  She  strung  the  corn  on  fine  cotton  cord 
putting  a  rose  seed  pod  between  each  grain,  then  used 
the  bittersweet  berries  to  terminate  the  blunt  ends  of 
branches,  and  climb  up  the  trunk.  By  the  time  she  had 
finished  this  she  was  really  interested.  She  achieved  a  gold 
star  for  the  top  from  a  box  lid  and  a  piece  of  gilt  paper 
Polly  had  carried  home  from  school.  With  yarn  ends  and 
mosquito  netting,  she  whipped  up  a  few  little  mittens, 
stockings,  and  bags.  She  cracked  nuts  from  their  fall 
store  and  melting  a  little  sugar  stirred  in  the  kernels 
until  they  were  covered  with  a  sweet,  white  glaze.  Then 
she  made  some  hard  candy,  and  some  fancy  cookies  with 
a  few  sticks  of  striped  candy  cut  in  circles  and  dotted  on 


"FOR  A  GOOD  GIRL"  331 

the  top.  She  polished  red,  yellow,  and  green  apples  and 
set  them  under  the  tree. 

When  she  made  her  final  trip  to  Hartley  before  Christmas 
the  spirit  of  the  day  was  in  the  air.  She  breathed  so  much 
of  it  that  she  paid  a  dollar  and  a  half  for  a  stout  sled  and 
ten  cents  for  a  dozen  little  red  candles,  five  each  for  two 
oranges,  and  fifteen  each  for  two  pretty  little  books,  then 
after  long  hesitation  added  a  doll  for  Polly.  She  felt 
that  she  should  not  have  done  this,  and  said  so,  to  her- 
self; but  knew  if  she  had  it  to  do  over,  she  would  do  the 
same  thing  again.  She  shook  her  shoulders  and  took  the 
first  step  toward  regaining  her  old  self-confidence. 

"Pshaw!  Big  and  strong  as  I  am,  and  Adam  getting 
such  a  great  boy,  we  can  make  it,"  she  said.  Then  she 
hurried  to  the  hack  and  was  driven  home  barely  in  time 
to  rush  her  bundles  into  her  room  before  school  was  out. 
She  could  scarcely  wait  until  the  children  were  in  bed  to 
open  the  parcels.  The  doll  had  to  be  dressed,  but  Kate 
was  interested  in  Christmas  by  that  time,  and  so  contem- 
plated the  spider-waisted  image  with  real  affection.  She 
never  had  owned  a  doll  herself.  She  let  the  knitting  go 
that  night,  and  cut  up  an  old  waist  to  make  white  under- 
clothing with  touches  of  lace,  and  a  pretty  dress.  Then 
Kate  went  to  her  room,  tied  the  doll  in  a  safe  place  on  the 
tree,  put  on  the  books,  and  set  the  candles  with  pins.  As 
she  worked  she  kept  biting  her  lips,  but  when  it  was  all 
finished  she  thought  it  was  lovely,  and  so  it  was.  As  she 
set  the  sled  in  front  of  the  tree  she  said:  "There,  little 
folks,  I  wonder  what  you  will  think  of  that!     It's  the  best 


332  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

I  can  do.  I've  a  nice  chicken  to  roast;  now  if  only,  if  only 
Mother  or  Nancy  Ellen  would  come,  or  write  a  line,  or 
merely  send  one  word  by  Tilly  Nepple." 

Suddenly  Kate  lay  down  on  the  bed,  buried  her  face  in 
the  pillow  while  her  shoulders  jerked  and  shook  in  dry 
sobs  for  a  long  time.  At  last  she  arose,  went  to  the 
kitchen,  bathed  her  face,  and  banked  the  fires.  "I 
suppose  it  is  the  Bates  way/'  she  said,  "but  it's  a  cold, 
hard  proposition.  I  know  what's  the  matter  with  all 
of  them.  They  are  afraid  to  come  near  me,  or  show  the 
slightest  friendliness,  for  fear  I'll  ask  them  to  help  sup- 
port us.  They  needn't  worry,  we  can  take  care  of  our- 
selves." 

She  set  her  tree  on  the  living  room  table,  arranged 
everything  to  the  best  advantage,  laid  a  fire  in  the  stove, 
and  went  to  sleep  Christmas  eve,  feeling  more  like  her- 
self than  she  had  since  the  explosion.  Christmas  morning 
she  had  the  house  warm  and  the  tree  ready  to  light  while 
the  children  dressed.  She  slipped  away  their  every-day 
clothing  and  laid  out  their  best  instead.  She  could  hear 
them  talking  as  they  dressed,  and  knew  the  change  of 
clothing  had  filled  them  with  hope.  She  hastily  lighted 
the  tree,  and  was  setting  the  table  as  they  entered  the 
dining  room. 

"Merry  Christmas,  little  people,"  she  cried  in  a  voice 
they  had  not  heard  in  a  long  time.  They  both  rushed 
to  her  and  Kate's  heart  stood  still  as  they  each  hugged 
her  tight,  kissed  her,  and  offered  a  tiny  packet.  From 
the  size  and  feeling  of  these,  she  realized  that  they  were 


"FOR  A  GOOD  GIRL"  335 

giving  her  the  candy  they  had  received  the  day  before  at 
school.  Surprises  were  coming  thick  and  fast  with  Kate. 
That  one  shook  her  to  her  foundations.  They  loved 
candy.  They  had  so  little!  They  had  nothing  else  to 
give.  She  held  them  an  instant  so  tightly  they  were  sur- 
prised at  her,  then  she  told  them  to  lay  the  packages  on 
the  living  room  table  until  after  breakfast.  Polly  opened 
the  door,  and  screamed.  Adam  ran,  and  then  both  of 
them  stood  silently  before  the  brave  little  tree,  flaming 
red,  touched  with  white,  its  gold  star  shining.  They 
looked  at  it,  and  then  at  each  other,  while  Kate,  watching 
at  an  angle  across  the  dining  room,  distinctly  heard  Polly 
say  in  an  awed  tone:     "Adam,  hadn't  we  better  pray?" 

Kate  lifted  herself  full  height,  and  drew  a  deep  breath. 
"Well,  I  guess  I  manage  a  little  Christmas  after  this," 
she  said,  "and  maybe  a  Fourth  of  July,  and  a  birthday, 
and  a  few  other  things.  I  needn't  be  such  a  coward.  I 
believe  I  can  make  it." 

From  that  hour  she  began  trying  to  think  of  something 
she  could  do  that  would  bring  returns  more  nearly  com- 
mensurate with  the  time  and  strength  she  was  spending. 
She  felt  tied  to  Walden  because  she  owned  the  house,  and 
could  rely  on  working  on  shares  with  Aunt  Ollie  for  winter 
food;  but  there  was  nothing  she  could  do  there  and  take 
care  of  the  children  that  would  bring  more  than  the  most 
meagre  living.  Still  they  were  living,  each  year  more 
comfortably;  the  children  were  growing  bigger  and 
stronger;  soon  they  could  help  at  something,  if  only  she 
could  think  what.     The  time  flew,  each  day  a  repetition 


334  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

of  yesterday's  dogged,  soul-tiring  grind,  until  some  days 
Kate  was  close  to  despair.  Each  day  the  house  grew 
shabbier;  things  wore  out  and  could  not  be  replaced; 
poverty  showed  itself  more  plainly.  So  three  more  years 
of  life  in  Walden  passed,  setting  their  indelible  mark  on 
Kate.  Time  and  again  she  almost  broke  the  spell  that 
bound  her,  but  she  never  quite  reached  the  place  where  her 
thought  cleared,  her  heart  regained  its  courage,  her  soul 
dared  take  wing  and  try  another  flight.  When  she 
thought  of  it,  "I  don't  so  much  mind  the  falling,"  said 
Kate  to  herself;  "but  I  do  seem  to  select  the  hardest  spots 
to  light  on." 

Kate  sat  on  the  back  steps,  the  sun  shone,  her  nearest 
neighbour  was  spading  an  onion  bed.  She  knew  that 
presently  she  would  get  out  the  rake  and  spade  and  begin 
another  year's  work;  but  at  that  minute  she  felt  too  hope- 
less to  move.  Adam  came  and  sat  on  the  step  beside 
her.  She  looked  at  him  and  was  surprised  at  his  size 
and  apparent  strength.  Someway  he  gave  her  hope.  He 
was  a  good  boy,  he  had  never  done  a  mean,  sneaking 
thing  that  she  knew  of.  He  was  natural,  normal, 
mischievous;  but  he  had  not  an  underhand  inclination 
that  she  could  discover.  He  would  make  a  fine-looking,  big 
man,  quite  as  fine  as  any  of  the  Bates  men;  even  Adam, 
3d,  was  no  handsomer  than  the  fourth  Adam  would  be. 
Hope  arose  in  her  with  the  cool  air  of  spring  on  her  cheek 
and  its  wine  in  her  nostrils.  Then  out  of  the  clear  sky 
she  said  it:  "Adam,  how  long  are  we  going  to  stay  in 
the  beggar  class?" 


"FOR  A  GOOD  GIRL"  335 

Adam  jumped,  and  turned  surprised  eyes  toward  her. 
Kate  was  forced  to  justify  herself. 

"Of  course  we  give  Aunt  Ollie  half  we  raise,"  she  said, 
"but  anybody  would  do  that.  We  work  hard,  and  we 
live  little  if  any  better  than  Jasons,  who  have  the 
County  Trustee  in  three  times  a  winter.  I'm  big  and 
strong,  you're  almost  a  man,  why  don't  we  do  something? 
Why  don't  we  have  some  decent  clothes,  some  money  for 
our  work  and" —  Kate  spoke  at  random — "a  horse  and 
carriage  ? " 

"'A  horse  and  carriage?'"  repeated  Adam,  staring  at  her. 

"Why  not?"  said  Kate,  casually. 

"But  how?"  cried  the  amazed  boy. 

"Why,  earn  the  money,  and  buy  it!"  said  Kate,  im- 
patiently. "I'm  about  fed  up  on  earning  cabbage,  and 
potatoes,  and  skirmishing  for  wood.  I'd  prefer  to  have 
a  dollar  in  my  pocket,  and  buy  what  we  need.  Can't  you 
use  your  brains  and  help  me  figure  out  a  way  to  earn 
some  money  ?  " 

"I  meant  to  pretty  soon  now,  but  I  thought  I  had  to 
go  to  school  a  few  years  yet,"  he  said. 

"Of  course  you  do,"  said  Kate.  "I  must  earn  the 
money,  but  can't  you  help  me  think  how?" 

"Sure,"  said  Adam,  sitting  straight  and  seeming 
thoughtful,  "but  give  me  a  little  time.  What  would 
you — could  you,  do?" 

"I  taught  before  I  was  married,"  said  Kate;  "but 
methods  of  teaching  change  so  I'd  have  to  have  a  Normal 
term  to  qualify  for  even  this  school.    I  could  put  you  and 


336  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

Polly  with  Aunt  Ollie  this  summer;  but  I  wouldn't,  not 
if  we  must  freeze  and  starve  together " 

"Because  of  Grandma?"  asked  the  boy.   Kate  nodded. 

"I  borrowed  money  to  go  once,  I  could  again;  but  I 
have  been  away  from  teaching  so  long,  and  I  don't 
know  what  to  do  with  you  children.  The  thing  I  would 
like  would  [be  to  find  a  piece  of  land  somewhere,  with  a 
house,  any  kind  of  one  on  it,  and  take  it  to  rent.  Land 
is  about  all  I  really  know.  Working  for  money  would  be 
of  some  interest.  I  am  so  dead  tired  working  for  potatoes. 
Sometimes  I  see  them  flying  around  in  the  air  at  night." 

"Do  you  know  of  any  place  you  would  like?"  asked 
Adam. 

"No,  I  don't,"  said  Kate,  "but  I  am  going  to  begin 
asking  and  I'm  going  to  keep  my  eyes  open.  I  heard 
yesterday  that  Dr.  James  intends  to  build  a  new  house. 
This  house  is  nothing,  but  the  lot  is  in  the  prettiest  place 
in  town.  Let's  sell  it  to  him,  and  take  the  money,  and 
buy  us  some  new  furniture  and  a  cow,  and  a  team,  and 
wagon,  and  a  buggy,  and  go  on  a  piece  of  land,  and  live  like 
other  people.  Seems  to  me  I'll  die  if  I  have  to  work  for 
potatoes  any  longer.  I'm  heart  sick  of  them.  Don't 
say  a  word  to  anybody,  but  Oh,  Adam,  think  !  Think 
hard  !    Can't  you  just  help  me  think  ?" 

"You  are  sure  you  want  land?"  asked  the  boy. 

"It  is  all  I  know,"  said  Kate.  "How  do  you  feel 
about  it  ? " 

"I  want  horses,  and  cows,  and  pigs — lots  of  pigs — and 
sheep,  and  lots  of  white  hens,"  said  Adam,  promptly. 


"FOR  A  GOOD  GIRL"  337 

"Get  the  spade  and  spade  the  onion  bed  until  I  think," 
said  Kate.  "And  that  reminds  me,  we  didn't  divide  the 
sets  last  fall.    Somebody  will  have  to  go  after  them." 

"I'll  go,"  said  Adam,  "but  it's  awful  early.  It'll 
snow  again.  Let  me  go  after  school  Friday  and  stay  over 
night.  I'd  like  to  go  and  stay  over  night  with  Aunt  Ollie. 
Grandma  can't  say  anything  to  me  that  I'll  listen  to. 
You  keep  Polly,  and  let  me  go  alone.    Sure  I  can." 

"All  right,"  said  Kate.  "Spade  the  bed,  and  let  it 
warm  a  day.  It  will  be  good  for  it.  But  don't  tell  Polly 
you're  going,  or  she'll  want  to  go  along." 

Until  Friday  night,  Kate  and  Adam  went  around  in 
such  a  daze  of  deep  thought  that  they  stumbled,  and  ran 
against  each  other;  then  came  back  to  their  affairs 
suddenly,  looking  at  each  other  and  smiling  understand- 
ing^. After  one  of  these  encounters  Kate  said  to  the 
boy:  "You  may  not  arrive  at  anything,  Adam,  but  I 
certainly  can't  complain  that  you  are  not  thinking." 

Adam  grinned:  "I'm  not  so  sure  that  I  haven't  got 
it,"  he  said. 

"Tell  me  quick,  and  let  me  think,  too,"  said  Kate. 

"But  I  can't  tell  you  yet,"  said  Adam.  "I  have  to 
find  out  something  first." 

Friday  evening  he  wanted  to  put  off  his  trip  until 
Saturday  morning,  so  Kate  agreed.  She  was  surprised 
when  he  bathed  and  put  on  his  clean  shirt  and  trousers, 
but  said  not  a  word.  She  had  made  some  study  of  child 
psychology,  she  thought  making  the  trip  alone  was  of  so 
much  importance  to  Adam   that   he  was   dressing   for 


338  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

the  occasion.  She  foresaw  extra  washing,  yet  she  said 
nothing  to  stop  the  lad.  She  waved  good-bye  to  him, 
thinking  how  sturdy  and  good  looking  he  was,  as  he  ran 
out  of  the  front  door.  Kate  was  beginning  to  be  wor- 
ried when  Adam  had  not  returned  toward  dusk  Sunday 
evening,  while  Polly  was  cross  and  fretful.  Finally  they 
saw  him  coming  down  the  ravine  bank,  carrying  his 
small  bundle  of  sets.  Kate  felt  a  glow  of  relief;  Polly 
ran  to  meet  him.  Kate  watched  as  they  met  and  saw 
Adam  take  Polly's  hand. 

"If  only  they  looked  as  much  alike  as  some  twins  do, 
Td  be  thankful,"  said  Kate. 

Adam  delivered  the  sets,  said  Aunt  Ollie  and  Grandma 
were  all  right,  that  it  was  an  awful  long  walk,  and  he 
was  tired.  Kate  noticed  that  his  feet  were  dust  covered, 
but  his  clothes  were  so  clean  she  said  to  him:  "You 
didn't  fish  much." 

"I  didn't  fish  any,"  said  Adam,  "not  like  I  always 
fish,"  he  added. 

"Have  any  time  to  think  ?"  asked  Kate. 

"You  just  bet  I  did,"  said  the  boy.  "I  didn't  waste 
a  minute." 

"Neither  did  I,"  said  Kate.  "I  know  exactly  what  the 
prettiest  lot  in  town  can  be  sold  for." 

"Good!"  cried  Adam.     "Fine!" 

Monday  Kate  wanted  to  get  up  early  and  stick  the  sets, 
but  Adam  insisted  that  Aunt  Ollie  said  the  sign  would 
not  be  right  until  Wednesday.  If  they  were  stuck  Monday 
or  Tuesday,  they  would  all  grow  to  top. 


"FOR  A  GOOD  GIRL"  339 

"My  goodness!  I  knew  that,"  said  Kate.  "I  am 
thinking  so  hard  I'm  losing  what  little  sense  I  had;  but 
anyway,  mere  thinking  is  doing  me  a  world  of  good. 
I  am  beginning  to  feel  a  kind  of  rising  joy  inside,  and  I 
can't  imagine  anything  else  that  makes  it." 

Adam  went  to  school,  laughing.  Kate  did  the  washing 
and  ironing,  and  worked  in  the  garden  getting  beds  ready. 
Tuesday  she  was  at  the  same  occupation,  when  about 
ten  o'clock  she  dropped  her  spade  and  straightened,  a 
flash  of  perfect  amazement  crossing  her  face.  She  stood 
immovable  save  for  swaying  forward  in  an  attitude  of  tense 
listening. 

"Hoolhoo!" 

Kate  ran  across  the  yard  and  as  she  turned  the  corner 
of  the  house  she  saw  a  one-horse  spring  wagon  standing; 
before  the  gate,  while  a  stiff,  gaunt  figure  sat  bolt  upright 
on  the  seat,  holding  the  lines.  Kate  was  at  the  wheel 
looking  up  with  a  face  of  delighted  amazement. 

"Why,  Mother!"  she  cried.     "Why,  Mother!" 

"Go  fetch  a  chair  and  help  me  down,"  said  Mrs.  Bates, 
"this  seat  is  getting  tarnation  hard." 

Kate  ran  after  a  chair,  and  helped  her  mother  to  alight. 
Mrs.  Bates  promptly  took  the  chair,  on  the  sidewalk. 

"Just  drop  the  thills,"  she  said.  "Lead  him  back  and 
slip  on  the  halter.    It's  there  with  his  feed." 

Kate  followed  instructions,  her  heart  beating  wildly. 
Several  times  she  ventured  a  quick  glance  at  her  mother. 
How  she  had  aged!  How  lined  and  thin  she  was!  But 
Oh,  how  blessed  good  it  was  to  see  her!     Mrs.  Bates  arose 


34©  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

and  they  walked  into  the  house,  where  she  looked  keenly 
around,  while  her  sharp  eyes  seemed  to  appraise  every- 
thing as  she  sat  down  and  removed  her  bonnet. 
i     "Go  fetch  me  a  drink,"  she  said,  "and  take  the  horse 
one  and  then  I'll  tell  you  why  I  came." 

"I  don't  care  why  you  came,"  said  Kate,  "but  Oh, 
Mother,  thank  God  you  are  here!" 

"Now,  now,  don't  get  het  up!"  cautioned  Mrs.  Bates. 
"Water,  I  said." 

Kate  hurried  to  obey  orders;  then  she  sank  on  a  chair 
and  looked  at  her  mother.  Mrs.  Bates  wiped  her  face 
and  settled  in  the  chair  comfortably. 

"They's  no  use  to  waste  words,"  she  said.  "Katie, 
you're  the  only  one  in  the  family  that  has  any  sense, 
and  sometimes  you  ain't  got  enough  so's  you  could  notice 
it  without  a  magnifyin'  glass;  but  even  so,  you're  ahead 
of  the  rest  of  them.  Katie,  I'm  sick  an'  tired  of  the 
Neppleses  and  the  Whistlers  and  being  bossed  by  the 
whole  endurin'  Bates  tribe;  sick  and  tired  of  it,  so  I  just 
came  after  you." 

"Came  after  me?"  repeated  Kate  stupidly. 

"Yes,  parrot,  'came  after  you,'"  said  Mrs.  Bates.  "I 
told  you,  you'd  no  great  amount  of  sense.  I'm  speakin' 
plain,  ain't  I?  I  don't  see  much  here  to  hold  you.  I 
want  you  should  throw  a  few  traps,  whatever  you  are 
beholden  to,  in  the  wagon — that's  why  I  brought  it — and 
come  on  home  and  take  care  of  me  the  rest  of  my  time. 
It  won't  be  so  long;  I  won't  interfere  much,  nor  be 
much  bother.     I've   kep'  the  place  in  order,   but  I'm 


"FOR  A  GOOD  GIRL"  341 

about  fashed.  I  won't  admit  it  to  the  rest  of  them;  but 
I  don't  seem  to  mind  telling  you,  Katie,  that  I  am  almost 
winded.     Will  you  come?" 

"Of  course  I  will,"  said  Kate,  a  tide  of  effulgent  joy 
surging  up  in  her  heart  until  it  almost  choked  her.  "Of 
course  I  will,  Mother,  but  my  children,  won't  they  worry 
you?" 

"Never  having  had  a  child  about,  I  s'pect  likely  they 
may,"  said  Mrs.  Bates,  dryly.  "Why,  you  little  fool! 
I  think  likely  it's  the  children  I  am  pinin'  for  most,  though 
I  couldn't  a-stood  it  much  longer  without  you.  Will 
you  get  ready  and  come  with  me  to-day?" 

"Yes,"  said  Kate,  "if  I  can  make  it.  There's  very 
little  here  I  care  for;  I  can  have  the  second-hand  man 
give  me  what  he  will  for  the  rest;  and  I  can  get  a  good 
price  for  the  lot  to-day,  if  I  say  so.  Dr.  James  wants 
it  to  build  on.  I'll  go  and  do  the  very  best  I  can,  and  when 
you  don't  want  me  any  longer,  Adam  will  be  bigger 
and  we  can  look  out  for  ourselves.  Yes,  I'll  get  ready 
at  once  if  you  want  me  to." 

"Not  much  of  a  haggler,  are  you,  Katie  ?"  said  Mrs.  Bates. 
"Why  don't  you  ask  what  rooms  you're  to  have,  and  what 
I'll  pay  you,  and  how  much  work  you'll  have  to  do,  and  if 
you  take  charge  of  the  farm,  and  how  we  share  up?" 

Kate  laughed:  "Mother,"  she  said,  "I  have  been 
going  to  school  here,  with  the  Master  of  Life  for  a  teacher; 
and  I've  learned  so  many  things  that  really  count,  that 
I  know  now  none  of  the  things  you  mention  are  essential. 
You  may  keep  the  answers  to  all  those  questions;  I  don't 


342  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

care  a  cent  about  any  of  them.  If  you  want  me,  and  want 
the  children,  all  those  things  will  settle  themselves  as  we 
come  to  them.  I  didn't  use  to  understand  you;  but  we 
got  well  enough  acquainted  at  Father's  funeral,  and  I 
do,  now.  Whatever  you  do  will  be  fair,  just,  and  right. 
I'll  obey  you,  as  I  shall  expect  Adam  and  Polly  to." 

"Well,  for  lands  sakes,  Katie,"  said  Mrs.  Bates.  "Life 
must  a-been  weltin'  it  to  you  good  and  proper.  I  never 
expected  to  see  you  as  meek  as  Moses.  That  Holt  man 
wasn't  big  enough  to  beat  you,  was  he?" 

"The  ways  in  which  he  'beat'  me  no  Bates  would 
understand.  I  had  eight  years  of  them,  and  I  don't 
understand  them  yet;  but  I  am  so  cooked  with  them, 
that  I  shall  be  wild  with  joy  if  you  truly  mean  for  me 
to  pack  up  and  come  home  with  you  for  awhile." 

"Oh,  Lordy,  Katie!"  said  Mrs.  Bates.  "This  whipped 
out,  take-anything-anyway  style  ain't  becomin'  to  a  big, 
fine,  upstanding  woman  like  you.  Hold  up  your  head, 
child!  Hold  up  your  head,  and  say  what  you  want,  an' 
how  you  want  it!" 

"Honestly,  Mother,  I  don't  want  a  thing  on  earth  but 
to  go  home  with  you  and  do  as  you  say  for  the  next  ten 
years,"  said  Kate. 

"Stiffen  up!"  cried  Mrs.  Bates.  "Stiffen  up!" 
"Don't  be  no  broken  reed,  Katie!  I  don't  want  you 
dependin'  on  me;  I  came  to  see  if  you  would  let  me  lean 
on  you  the  rest  of  the  way.  I  wa'n't  figuring  that  there 
was  anything  on  this  earth  that  could  get  you  down;  so's 
I  was  calculatin'  you'd  be  the  very  one  to  hold  me  up. 


"FOR  A  GOOD  GIRL"  343 

Since  you  seem  to  be  feeling  unaccountably  weak  in  the 
knees,  let's  see  if  we  can  brace  them  a  little.  Livin*  with 
Pa  so  long  must  kind  of  given  me  a  tendency  toward 
nussin'  a  deed.  I've  got  one  here  I  had  executed  two 
years  ago,  and  I  was  a  coming  with  it  along  about  now, 
when  'a  little  bird  tole  me'  to  come  to-day,  so  here  I  am. 
Take  that,  Katie." 

Mrs.  Bates  pulled  a  long  sealed  envelope  from  the  front 
of  her  dress  and  tossed  it  in  Kate's  lap. 

"Mother,  what  is  this?"  asked  Kate  in  a  hushed  voice. 

"Well,  if  you'd  rather  use  your  ears  than  your  eyes,  it's 
all  the  same  to  me,"  said  Mrs.  Bates.  "The  boys  always 
had  a  mortal  itchin'  to  get  their  ringers  on  the  papers  in 
the  case.  I  can't  say  I  don't  like  the  difference;  and  I've 
give  you  every  chance,  too,  an  you  wouldn't  demand, 
you  wouldn't  specify.  Well,  I'll  just  specify  myself. 
I'm  dead  tired  of  the  neighbours  taking  care  of  me,  and 
all  of  the  children  stoppin'  every  time  they  pass, 
each  one  orderin'  or  insinuatin'  according  to  their  lights, 
as  to  what  I  should  do.  I've  always  had  a  purty  clear 
idea  of  what  I  wanted  to  do  myself.  Over  forty  years, 
I  sided  with  Pa,  to  keep  the  peace;  now  I  reckon  I'm 
free  to  do  as  I  like.  That's  my  side.  You  can  tell  me 
yours,  now." 

Kate  shook  her  head:      "I  have  nothing  to  say." 

"Jest  as  well,"  said  Mrs.  Bates.  "Re-hashing  don't 
do  any  good.  Come  back,  and  come  to-day;  but  stiffen 
up.  That  paper  you  are  holding  is  a  warrantee  deed  to 
the  home  two  hundred  to  you   and  your   children  after 


344  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

you.  You  take  possession  to-day.  There's  money  in 
the  bank  to  paper,  an'  paint,  and  make  any  little  changes 
you'd  like,  such  as  cutting  doors  or  windows  different 
places,  floorin'  the  kitchen  new,  or  the  like.  Take  it  an' 
welcome.  I  got  more  'an  enough  to  last  me  all  my  days; 
all  I  ask  of  you  is  my  room,  my  food,  and  your  company. 
Take  the  farm,  and  do  what  you  pretty  please  with  it." 

"But,  Mother!"  cried  Kate.  "The  rest  of  them! 
They'd  tear  me  limb  for  limb.     I  don't  dare  take  this." 

"Oh,  don't  you?"  asked  Mrs.  Bates.  "Well,  I  still 
stand  for  quite  a  bit  at  Bates  Corners,  and  I  say  you  will 
take  that  farm,  and  run  it  as  you  like.  It  is  mine,  I  give 
it  to  you.  We  all  know  it  wasn't  your  fault  you  lost  your 
money,  though  it  was  a  dose  it  took  some  of  us  a  good  long 
time  to  swallow.  You  are  the  only  one  out  of  your  share; 
you  settled  things  fine  for  the  rest  of  them;  and  they  all 
know  it,  and  feel  it.  You'll  never  know  what  you  did  for 
me  the  way  you  put  me  through  Pa's  funeral;  now  if  you'll 
just  shut  up,  and  stick  that  deed  somewhere  it  won't  burn, 
and  come  home  an'  plant  me  as  successfully  as  you  did 
Pa,  you'll  have  earned  all  you'll  get,  an'  something  coming. 
Now  set  us  out  a  bite  to  eat,  and  then  let's  be  off." 

Kate  slowly  arose  and  handed  back  the  deed. 

"I'll  be  flying  around  so  lively  I  might  lose  that,"  she 
said,  "you  put  it  where  you  had  it,  till  we  get  to  Hartley, 
and  then  I'll  get  a  place  in  the  bank  vault  for  it.  I  can't 
quite  take  this  in,  just  yet,  but  you  know  I'll  do  my 
best  for  you,  Mother!" 

"Tain't  likely  I'd  be  here  else,"  said  Mrs.  Bates,  "and 


"FOR  A  GOOD  GIRL"  345 

tea,  Katie.  A  cup  of  good  strong  hot  tea  would  fix  me 
up  about  proper,  right  now." 

Kate  went  to  the  kitchen  and  began  setting  everything 
she  had  to  eat  on  the  table.  As  she  worked  Polly  came 
flying  in  the  door  crying:  "Mother,  who  has  come?" 
so  Kate  stepped  toward  the  living  room  to  show  the  child 
to  her  grandmother  and  as  she  advanced  she  saw  a  queer 
thing.  Adam  was  sitting  on  his  grandmother's  lap.  Her 
arms  were  tight  around  him,  her  face  buried  in  his  crisp 
hair,  and  he  was  patting  her  shoulder  and  telling  her  he 
would  take  care  of  her,  while  her  voice  said  distinctly: 
"Of  course  you  will,  birdie!"  Then  the  lad  and  the  old 
woman  laid  their  heads  together  and  laughed  almost 
hysterically. 

"Welly  if  that  isn't  quick  work!"  said  Kate  to  herself. 
Then  she  presented  Polly,  who  followed  Adam's  lead  in 
hugging  the  stranger  first  and  looking  at  her  afterward. 
God  bless  all  little  children.  Then  Adam  ran  to  tell  the 
second-hand  man  to  come  at  one  o'clock  and  Dr.  James 
that  he  might  have  the  keys  at  three.  They  ate  hurriedly. 
Kate  set  out  what  she  wished  to  save;  the  children  carried 
things  to  the  wagon;  she  packed  while  they  ran  after  their 
books,  and  at  three  o'clock  all  of  them  climbed  into  the 
spring  wagon,  and  started  to  Bates  Corners. 

Kate  was  the  last  one  in.  As  she  climbed  on  the  seat 
beside  her  mother  and  took  the  lines,  she  handed  Mrs. 
Bates  a  small  china  mug  to  hold  for  her.  It  was  decorated 
with  a  very  fat  robin  and  on  a  banner  floating  from  its 
beak  was  inscribed:     "For  a  Good  Girl." 


CHAPTER  XXI 

Life's  Boomerang 

AS  THEY    drove   into   Hartley,    Mrs.   Bates    drew 

/%  forth  the  deed. 
/  m  "You  are  right  about  the  bank  being  a  safe 
place  for  this,"  she  said.  "I've  had  it  round  the  house 
for  two  years,  and  it's  a  fair  nervous  thing  to  do.  I  wish 
I'd  a-had  sense  to  put  it  there  and  come  after  you  the 
day  I  made  it.  But  there's  no  use  crying  over  spilt  milk, 
nor  fussin'  with  the  grease  spot  it  makes;  salt  it  down 
safely  now,  and  when  you  get  it  done,  beings  as  this 
setting  is  fairly  comfortable,  take  time  to  run  into  Hard- 
ing's and  pick  up  some  Sunday-school  clothes  for  the  chil- 
dren that  will  tally  up  with  the  rest  of  their  relations';  an' 
get  yourself  a  cheap  frock  or  two  that  will  spruce  you  up 
a  bit  till  you  have  time  to  decide  what  you  really  want." 

Kate  passed  the  lines  to  her  mother,  and  climbed  from 
the  wagon.  She  returned  with  her  confidence  partly  re- 
stored and  a  new  look  on  her  face.  Her  mother  handed 
her  two  dimes. 

"I  can  wait  five  minutes  longer,"  she  said.  "Now 
get  two  nice  oranges  and  a  dime's  worth  of  candy." 

Kate  took  the  money  and  obeyed  orders.  She  handed 
the   packages   to   her   mother   as   she   climbed   into   the 

34^ 


LIFE'S  BOOMERANG  347 

wagon  and  again  took  the  lines,  heading  the  horse  toward 
the  old,  familiar  road.  Her  mother  twisted  around  on 
the  seat  and  gave  each  of  the  children  an  orange  and  a 
stick  of  candy. 

"There!"  she  said.  "Go  on  and  spoil  yourselves  past 
redemption." 

Kate  laughed.  "But,  Mother,"  she  said,  "you  never 
did  that  for  us." 

"Which  ain't  saying  I  never  wanted  to,"  said  Mrs. 
Bates,  sourly.  "You're  a  child  only  once  in  this  world; 
it's  a  little  too  rough  to  strip  childhood  of  everything.  I 
ain't  so  certain  Bates  ways  are  right,  that  for  the  rest  of 
my  time  I'm  goin'  to  fly  in  the  face  of  all  creation  to  prove 
it.  If  God  lets  me  live  a  few  years  more,  I  want  the  faces 
around  me  a  little  less  discontenteder  than  those  I've 
been  used  to.  If  God  Almighty  spares  me  long  enough, 
I  lay  out  to  make  sure  that  Adam  and  Polly  will  squeeze 
out  a  tear  or  two  for  Granny  when  she  is  laid  away." 

"I  think  you  are  right,  Mother,"  said  Kate.  "It 
didn't  cost  anything,  but  we  had  a  real  pretty  Christmas 
tree  this  year,  and  I  believe  we  can  do  better  next  time. 
I  want  the  children  to  love  you,  but  don't  buy  them." 

"Well,  I'd  hardly  call  an  orange  and  a  stick  of  candy 
traffickin'  in  affection,"  said  Mrs.  Bates.  "They'll  sur- 
vive it  without  underminin'  their  principles,  I'll  be  bound, 
or  yours  either.  Katie,  let's  make  a  beginning  to-day. 
Let's  work  what  is  right,  and  healthy,  a  fair  part  of  the  day, 
and  then  each  day,  and  Sunday  especially,  let's  play  and  rest, 
just  as  hard  as  we  work.     It's  been  all  work  and  no  play  till 


348  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

we've  been  mighty  'dull  boys'  at  our  house;  Vm  free  to  say 
that  I  hanker  for  a  change  before  I  die." 

"Don't  speak  so  often  of  dying,"  said  Kate.  "You're 
all  right.  You've  been  too  much  alone.  You'll  feel  like 
yourself  as  soon  as  you  get  rested." 

"I  guess  I  been  thinking  about  it  too  much,"  said 
Mrs.  Bates.  "I  ain't  been  so  well  as  I  might,  an'  not 
being  used  to  it,  it  worries  me  some.  I  got  to  buck  up. 
The  one  thing  I  cant  do  is  to  die;  but  I'm  most  tired 
enough  to  do  it  right  now.    I'll  be  glad  when  we  get  home." 

Kate  drove  carefully,  but  as  fast  as  she  dared  with  her 
load.  As  they  neared  Bates  Corners,  the  way  became  more 
familiar  each  mile.  Kate  forgot  the  children,  forgot  her 
mother,  forgot  ten  years  of  disappointment  and  failure, 
and  began  a  struggle  to  realize  what  was  happening  to  her 
now.  The  lines  slipped  down,  the  horse  walked  slowly,  the 
first  thing  she  knew,  big  hot  tears  splashed  on  her  hand. 
She  gathered  up  the  lines,  drew  a  deep  breath,  and  glanced 
at  her  mother,  meeting  her  eye  fairly.  Kate  tried  to  smile, 
but  her  lips  were  quivering. 

"Glad,  Katie?"  asked  Mrs.  Bates. 

Kate  nodded. 

"Me,  too!"  said  Mrs.  Bates. 

They  passed  the  orchard. 

"There's  the  house,  there,  Polly!"  cried  Adam,   n 

"Why,  Adam,  how  did  you  know  the  place?"  asked 
Kate,  turning. 

Adam  hesitated  a  second.  "Ain't  you  told  us  times 
a-plenty  about  the  house  and  the  lilac,  and  the  snowball 


LIFE'S  BOOMERANG  349 

bush "       "Yes,    and    the     cabbage    roses,"    added 

Polly. 

"So  I  have,"  said  Kate.  "Mostly  last  winter  when  we 
were  knitting.  Yes,  this  will  be  home  for  all  the  rest  of 
our  lives.  Isn't  it  grand?  How  will  we  ever  thank 
Grandmother?  How  will  we  ever  be  good  enough  to 
pay  her?" 

Both  children  thought  this  a  hint,  so  with  one  accord 
they  arose  and  fell  on  Mrs.  Bates'  back,  and  began  to 
pay  at  once  in  coin  of  childhood. 

"There,  there,"  said  Kate,  drawing  them  away  as  she 
stopped  the  horse  at  the  gate.  "There,  there,  you  will 
choke  Grandmother." 

Mrs.  Bates  pushed  Kate's  arm  down. 

"Mind  your  own  business,  will  you?"  she  said.  "I 
ain't  so  feeble  that  I  can't  speak  for  myself  awhile 
yet." 

In  a  daze  Kate  climbed  down,  and  ran  to  bring  a 
chair  to  help  her  mother.  The  children  were  boisterously 
half  eating  Mrs.  Bates  up;  she  had  both  of  them  in  her 
arms,  with  every  outward  evidence  of  enjoying  the  per- 
formance immensely.  That  was  a  very  busy  evening, 
for  the  wagon  was  to  be  unpacked;  all  of  them  were 
hungry,  while  the  stock  was  to  be  fed,  and  the  milk- 
ing done.  Mrs.  Bates  and  Polly  attempted  supper; 
Kate  and  Adam  went  to  the  barn;  but  they  worked  very 
hurriedly,  for  Kate  could  see  how  feeble  her  mother  had 
grown. 

When  at  last  the  children  were  bathed  and  in  bed, 


350  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

Kate  and  her  mother  sat  on  the  little  front  porch  to  smell 
spring  a  few  minutes  before  going  to  rest.  Kate  reached 
over  and  took  her  mother's  hand. 

"There's  no  word  I  know  in  any  language  big  enough 
to  thank  you  for  this,  Mother,"  she  said.  "The  best  I 
can  do  is  to  make  each  day  as  nearly  a  perfect  expression 
of  what  I  feel  as  possible." 

Mrs.  Bates  drew  away  her  hand  and  used  it  to  wipe 
her  eyes;  but  she  said  with  her  usual  terse  perversity: 
"My,  Kate!  You're  most  as  wordy  as  Agatha.  I'm  no 
glibtonguer,  but  I  bet  you  ten  dollars  it  will  hustle  you 
some  to  be  any  gladder  than  I  am." 

Kate  laughed  and  gave  up  the  thanks  question. 

"To-morrow  we  must  get  some  onions  in,"  she  said. 
"Have  you  made  any  plans  about  the  farm  work  for  this 
year  yet  ? " 

"No,"  said  Mrs.  Bates.  "I  was  going  to  leave  that  till 
I  decided  whether  I'd  come  after  you  this  spring  or  wait 
until  next.  Since  I  decided  to  come  now,  I'll  just  leave 
your  farm  to  you.     Handle  it  as  you  please." 

"Mother,  what  will  the  other  children  say?"  implored 
Kate. 

"Humph!  You  are  about  as  well  acquainted  with 
them  as  I  am.  Take  a  shot  at  it  yourself.  If  it  will 
avoid  a  fuss,  we  might  just  say  you  had  come  to  stay 
with  me,  and  run  the  farm  for  me,  and  let  them  get  used 
to  your  being  here  and  bossing  things  by  degrees;  like 
the  man  that  cut  his  dog's  tail  off  an  inch  at  a  time,  so 
it  wouldn't  hurt  so  bad." 


LIFE'S  BOOMERANG  35r 

"But  by  inches,  or  'at  one  fell  swoop,'  it's  going  to 
hurt,"  said  Kate. 

"Sometimes  it  seems  to  me,"  said  Mrs.  Bates,  "that 
the  more  we  get  hurt  in  this  world  the  decenter  it  makes  us. 
All  the  boys  were  hurt  enough  when  Pa  went,  but  every 
man  of  them  has  been  a  bigger,  better  man  since.  Instead 
of  competing  as  they  always  did,  Adam  and  Andrew  and 
the  older,  beforehandeder  ones,  took  hold  and  helped  the 
younger  as  you  told  them  to,  and  it's  done  the  whole  family 
a  world  of  good.  One  thing  is  funny.  To  hear  Mary 
talk  now,  you'd  think  she  engineered  that  plan  herself. 
The  boys  are  all  thankful,  and  so  are  the  girls.  I  leave  it 
to  you.  Tell  them  or  let  them  guess  it  by  degrees,  it's 
all  one  to  me." 

"Tell  me  about  Nancy  Ellen  and  Robert,"  said  Kate. 

"Robert  stands  head  in  Hartley.  He  gets  bigger  and 
broader  every  year.  He  is  better  looking  than  a  man  has 
any  business  to  be;  and  I  hear  the  Hartley  ladies  give 
him  plenty  of  encouragement  in  being  stuck  on  himself, 
but  I  think  he  is  true  to  Nancy  Ellen,  and  his  heart  is  all 
in  his  work.  No  children.  That's  a  burning  shame! 
Both  of  them  feel  it.  In  a  way,  and  strictly  between  you 
and  me,  Nancy  Ellen  is  a  disappointment  to  me,  an'  I 
doubt  if  she  ain't  been  a  mite  of  a  one  to  him.  He  had  a 
right  to  expect  a  good  deal  of  Nancy  Ellen.  She  had 
such  a  good  brain,  and  good  body,  and  purty  face.  I 
may  miss  my  guess,  but  it  always  strikes  me  that  she 
falls  short  of  what  he  expected  of  her.  He's  coined  money, 
but  she  hasn't  spent  it  in  the  ways  he  would.     Likely  I 


352  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

shouldn't  say  it,  but  he  strikes  me  as  being  just  a  leetle 
mite  too  good  for  her." 

"Oh,  Mother!"  said  Kate. 

"Now  you  lookey  here,"  said  Mrs.  Bates.  "Suppose 
you  was  a  man  of  Robert's  brains,  and  education,  and 
professional  ability,  and  you  made  heaps  of  money,  and 
no  children  came,  and  you  had  to  see  all  you  earned,  and 
stood  for,  and  did  in  a  community  spent  on  the  selfishness 
of  one  woman.  How  big  would  you  feel?  What  end  is 
that  for  the  ambition  and  life  work  of  a  real  man  ?  How 
would  you  like  it?" 

"I  never  thought  of  such  a  thing,"  said  Kate. 

"Well,  mark  my  word,  you  will  think  of  it  when  you 
see  their  home,  and  her  clothes,  and  see  them  together," 
said  Mrs.  Bates. 

"She  still  loves  pretty  clothing  so  well?"  asked  Kate. 

"She  is  the  best-dressed  woman  in  the  county,  and 
the  best  looking,"  said  Mrs.  Bates,  "and  that's  all  there 
is  to  her.  I'm  free  to  say  with  her  chances,  I'm  ashamed 
of  what  she  has,  and  hasn't  made  of  herself.  I'd  rather 
stand  in  your  shoes,  than  hers,  this  minute,  Katie." 

"Does  she  know  I'm  here?"  asked  Kate. 

"Yes.  I  stopped  and  told  her  on  my  way  out,  this 
morning,"  said  Mrs.  Bates.  "I  asked  them  to  come  out 
for  Sunday  dinner,  and  they  are  coming." 

"Did  you  deliver  the  invitation  by  force?"  asked  Kate. 

"Now,  none  of  your  meddling,"  said  Mrs.  Bates.  "I 
got  what  I  went  after,  and  that  was  all  I  wanted.  I've 
told  her  an'  told  her  to  come  to  see  you  during  the  last 


LIFE'S  BOOMERANG  353 

three  years,  an'  I  know  she  wanted  to  come;  but  she  just 
had  that  stubborn  Bates  streak  in  her  that  wouldn't  let 
her  change,  once  her  mind  was  made  up.  It  did  give  us  a 
purty  severe  jolt,  Kate,  havin'  all  that  good  Bates  money 
burn  up." 

"I  scarcely  think  it  jolted  any  of  you  more  than  it  did 
me,"  said  Kate  dryly. 

"No,  I  reckon  it  didn't,"  said  Mrs.  Bates.  "But 
they's  no  use  hauling  ourselves  over  the  coals  to  go  into 
that.  It's  past.  You  went  out  to  face  life  bravely 
enough  and  it  throwed  you  a  boomerang  that  cut  a 
circle  and  brought  you  back  where  you  started  from. 
Our  arrangements  for  the  future  are  all  made.  Now  it's 
up  to  us  to  live  so  that  we  get  the  most  out  of  life  for  us 
an'  the  children.  Those  are  mighty  nice  children  of 
yours,  Kate.  I  take  to  that  boy  something  amazin',  and 
the  girl  is  the  nicest  little  old  lady  I've  seen  in  many  a 
day.  I  think  we  will  like  knittin'  and  sewin'  together, 
to  the  top  of  our  bent." 

"My,  but  I'm  glad  you  like  them,  Mother,"  said  Kate. 
"They  are  all  I've  got  to  show  for  ten  years  of  my  life." 

"Not  by  a  long  shot,  Katie,"  said  Mrs.  Bates.  "Life 
has  made  a  real  woman  of  you.  I  kept  watchin'  you 
to-day  comin'  over;  an'  I  was  prouder  'an  Jehu  of  you. 
It's  a  debatable  question  whether  you  have  thrown 
away  your  time  and  your  money.  I  say  you've  got  some- 
thing to  show  for  it  that  I  wish  to  God  the  rest  of  my 
children  had.  I  want  you  shouM  brace  your  back,  and 
stiffen  your  neck,  and  make  things  hum   here.     Get   a 


354  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

carpenter  first.  Fix  the  house  the  way  it  will  be  most 
convenient  and  comfortable.  Then  paint  and  paper, 
and  get  what  new  things  you  like,  in  reason — of  course, 
in  reason — and  then  I  want  you  should  get  all  of  us  clothes 
so's  there  ain't  a  noticeable  difference  between  us  and  the 
others  when  we  come  together  here  or  elsewhere.  Put 
in  a  telephone;  they're  mighty  handy,  and  if  you  can 
scrape  up  a  place — I  washed  in  Nancy  Ellen's  tub  a 
few  weeks  ago.  I  never  was  wet  all  over  at  once  before 
in  my  life,  and  I'm  just  itching  to  try  it  again.  I  say, 
let's  have  it,  if  it  knocks  a  fair-sized  hole  in  a  five-hundred- 
dollar  bill.  An'  if  we  had  the  telephone  right  now,  we 
could  call  up  folks  an'  order  what  we  want  without  ever 
budgin'  out  of  our  tracks.  Go  up  head,  Katie,  I'll  back  you 
in  anything  you  can  think  of.  It  won't  hurt  my  feelings 
a  mite  if  you  can  think  of  one  or  two  things  the  rest  of 
them  haven't  got  yet.  Can't  you  think  of  something 
that  will  lay  the  rest  of  them  clear  in  the  shade  ?  I  just 
wish  you  could.     Now,  I'm  going  to  bed." 

Kate  went  with  her  mother,  opened  her  bed,  pulled 
out  the  pins,  and  brushed  her  hair,  drew  the  thin  cover 
over  her,  and  blew  out  the  light.  Then  she  went  past 
the  bed  on  her  way  to  the  door,  and  stooping,  she  kissed 
her  mother  for  the  first  time  since  she  could  remember. 

Then  she  lighted  a  lamp,  hunted  a  big  sheet  of  wrapping 
paper,  and  sitting  down  beside  the  living  room  table,  she 
drew  a  rough  sketch  f  the  house.  For  hours  she  pored 
over  it,  and  when  at  last  she  went  to  bed,  on  the  reverse 
of  the  sheet  she  had  a  drawing  that  was  quite  a  different 


LIFE'S  BOOMERANG  355 

affair;  yet  it  was  the  same  house  with  very  few  and 
easily  made  changes  that  a  good  contractor  could  accom- 
plish in  a  short  time.  In  the  morning,  she  showed  these 
ideas  to  her  mother  who  approved  all  of  them,  but  still 
showed  disappointment  visibly. 

"That's  nothing  but  all  the  rest  of  them  have,"  she  said. 
"I  thought  you  could  think  up  some  frills  that  would  be 
new,  and  different." 

"Well,"  said  Kate,  "would  you  want  to  go  to  the 
expense  of  setting  up  a  furnace  in  the  cellar?  It  would 
make  the  whole  house  toasty  warm;  it  would  keep  the 
bathroom  from  freezing  in  cold  weather;  and  make  a 
better  way  to  heat  the  water." 

"Now  you're  shouting!"  cried  Mrs.  Bates.  "That's 
it!  But  keep  still.  Don't  you  tell  a  soul  about  it,  but 
go  on  and  do  it,  Katie.  Wade  right  in!  What  else  can 
you  think  of?" 

"A  brain  specialist  for  you,"  said  Kate.  "I  think 
myself  this  is  enough  for  a  start;  but  if  you  insist  on 
more,  there's  a  gas  line  passing  us  out  there  on  the  road; 
we  could  hitch  on  for  a  very  reasonable  sum,  and  do 
away  with  lamps  and  cooking  with  wood." 

"Goody  for  you!  That's  it!"  cried  Mrs.  Bates. 
"That's  the  very  thing!  Now  brush  up  your  hair  your 
prettiest,  and  put  on  your  new  blue  dress,  and  take  the 
buggy,  and  you  and  Adam  go  see  how  much  of  this  can 
be  started  to-day.     Me  and  Polly  will  keep  house." 

In  a  month  all  of  these  changes  had  been  made,  and  were 
in  running  order;  the  painting  was  finished,  the  new  fur- 


356  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

niturc  in  place,  a  fair  start  made  on  the  garden,  while  a 
strong,  young,  hired  man  was  not  far  behind  Hiram  with 
his  plowing.  Kate  was  so  tired  she  almost  staggered; 
but  she  was  so  happy  she  arose  each  morning  refreshed,' 
and  accomplished  work  enough  for  three  average  women 
before  the  day  was  over.  She  suggested  to  her  mother 
that  she  use  of  her  money  from  the  sale  of  the  Walden 
home  to  pay  for  what  furniture  she  had  bought,  and  then 
none  of  the  others  could  feel  that  they  were  entitled  to 
any  share  in  it,  at  any  time.  Mrs.  Bates  thought  that  a 
good  idea,  so  much  ill  will  was  saved  among  the  children. 

They  all  stopped  in  passing;  some  of  them  had  sharp 
words  to  say,  which  Kate  instantly  answered  in  such 
a  way  that  this  was  seldom  tried  twice.  In  two  months 
the  place  was  fresh,  clean,  convenient,  and  in  good  taste. 
All  of  them  had  sufficient  suitable  clothing,  while  the 
farm  work  had  not  been  neglected  enough  to  hurt  the 
value  of  the  crops. 

In  the  division  of  labour,  Adam  and  the  hired  man 
took  the  barn  and  field  work,  Mrs.  Bates  and  Polly  the 
house,  while  Kate  threw  all  her  splendid  strength  wherever 
it  was  most  needed.  If  a  horse  was  sick,  she  went  to 
the  barn  and  doctored  it.  If  the  hay  was  going  to  get 
wet,  she  pitched  hay.  If  the  men  had  not  time  for  the 
garden  she  attended  it,  and  hoed  the  potatoes.  For  a 
change,  everything  went  right.  Mrs.  Bates  was  happier 
than  she  ever  had  been  before,  taking  the  greatest  interest 
in  the  children.  They  had  lived  for  three  years  in  such  a 
manner  that  they  would  never  forget  it.     They  were  old 


LIFE'S  BOOMERANG  357 

enough  to  appreciate  what  changes  had  come  to  them,  and 
to  be  very  keen  about  their  new  home  and  life.  Kate 
threw  herself  into  the  dream  of  her  heart  with  all  the  zest 
of  her  being.  Always  she  had  loved  and  wanted  land. 
Now  she  had  it.  She  knew  how  to  handle  it.  She  could 
make  it  pay  as  well  as  any  Bates  man,  for  she  had  man 
strength,  and  all  her  life  she  had  heard  men  discuss,  and 
helped  men  apply  man  methods. 

There  was  a  strong  strain  of  her  father's  spirit  of  driving 
in  Kate's  blood;  but  her  mother  was  so  tired  of  it  that 
whenever  Kate  had  gone  just  so  far  the  older  woman 
had  merely  to  caution:  "Now,  now,  Katie!"  to  make 
Kate  realize  what  she  was  doing  and  take  a  slower  pace. 
All  of  them  were  well,  happy,  and  working  hard;  but  they 
also  played  at  proper  times,  and  in  convenient  places. 
Kate  and  her  mother  went  with  the  children  when  they 
fished  in  the  meadow  brook,  or  hunted  wild  flowers  in  the 
woods  for  Polly's  bed  in  the  shade  of  the  pear  tree  beside 
the  garden.  There  were  flowers  in  the  garden  now,  as 
well  as  vegetables.  There  was  no  work  done  on  Sun- 
day. The  children  always  went  to  Sunday-school  and 
the  full  term  of  the  District  School  at  Bates  Corners. 
They  were  respected,  they  were  prosperous,  they  were 
finding  a  joy  in  life  they  never  before  had  known,  while 
life  had  taught  them  how  to  appreciate  its  good  things 
as  they  achieved  them. 

The  first  Christmas  Mrs.  Bates  and  Kate  made  a 
Christmas  tree  from  a  small  savine  in  the  dooryard  that 
stood  where  Kate  wanted  to  set  a  flowering  shrub  she  had 


358  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

found  in  the  woods.  Guided  by  the  former  year,  and 
with  a  few  dollars  they  decided  to  spend,  these  women 
made  a  real  Christmas  tree,  with  gifts  and  ornaments, 
over  which  Mrs.  Bates  was  much  more  excited  than  the 
children.  Indeed,  such  is  the  perversity  of  children  that 
Kate's  eyes  widened  and  her  mouth  sagged  when  she 
heard  Adam  say  in  a  half-whisper  to  Polly:  "This  is 
mighty  pretty,  but  gee,  Polly,  there'll  never  be  another 
tree  as  pretty  as  ours  last  year!" 

While  Polly  answered:     "I  was  just  thinking  about  it, 
Adam.     Wasn't  it  the  grandest  thing?" 

The  next  Christmas  Mrs.  Bates  advanced  to  a  tree 
that  reached  the  ceiling,  with  many  candles,  real  orna- 
ments, and  an  orange,  a  stocking  of  candy  and  nuts,  and 
a  doll  for  each  girl,  and  a  knife  for  each  boy  of  her  grand- 
children, all  of  whom  she  invited  for  dinner.  Adam, 
3d,  sat  at  the  head  of  the  table,  Mrs.  Bates  at  the 
foot.  The  tiniest  tots  that  could  be  trusted  without  their 
parents  ranged  on  the  Dictionary  and  the  Bible,  of  which 
the  Bates  family  possessed  a  fat  edition  for  birth  records; 
no  one  had  ever  used  it  for  any  other  purpose,  until  it 
served  to  lift  Hiram's  baby,  Milly,  on  a  level  with  her 
roast  turkey  and  cranberry  jelly.  For  a  year  before  her 
party  Mrs.  Bates  planned  for  it.  The  tree  was  beautiful, 
the  gifts  amazing,  the  dinner,  as  Kate  cooked  and  served 
it,  a  revelation,  with  its  big  centre  basket  of  red,  yellow, 
and  green  apples,  oranges,  bananas,  grapes,  and  flowers. 
None  of  them  ever  had  seen  a  table  like  that.  Then 
when  dinner  was  over,  Kate  sat  before  the  fire  and  in  her 


LIFE'S  BOOMERANG  359 

clear  voice,  with  fine  inflections,  she  read  from  the  Big 
Book  the  story  of  the  guiding  star  and  the  little  child  in 
the  manger.  Then  she  told  stories,  and  they  played 
games  until  four  o'clock;  and  then  Adam  rolled  all  of 
the  children  into  the  big  wagon  bed  mounted  on  the  sled 
runners,  and  took  them  home.  Then  he  came  back  and 
finished  the  day.  Mrs.  Bates  could  scarcely  be  persuaded 
to  go  to  bed.  When  at  last  Kate  went  to  put  out  her 
mother's  light  and  see  that  her  feet  were  warm  and  her 
covers  tucked,  she  found  her  crying. 

"Why,  Mother!"  exclaimed  Kate  in  frank  dismay. 
"Wasn't   everything   all    right?" 

"I'm  just  so  endurin'  mad,"  sobbed  Mrs.  Bates,  "that 
I  could  a-most  scream  and  throw  things.  Here  I  am, 
closer  the  end  of  my  string  than  anybody  knows.  Likely 
I'll  not  see  another  Christmas.  I've  lived  the  most  of  my 
life,  and  never  knowed  there  was  a  time  like  that  on 
earth  to  be  had.  There  wasn't  expense  to  it  we  couldn't 
easy  have  stood,  always.  Now,  at  the  end  of  my  tether, 
I  go  and  do  this  for  my  grandchildren.  'Tween  their 
little  shining  faces  and  me,  there  kept  coming  all  day 
the  little,  sad,  disappointed  faces  of  you  and  Nancy 
Ellen,  and  Mary,  and  Hannah,  and  Adam,  and  Andrew, 
and  Hiram  and  all  the  others.  Ever  since  he  went  I've 
thought  the  one  thing  /  couldn't  do  was  to  die  and  face 
Adam  Batesy  but  to-day  I  ain't  felt  so  scared  of  him. 
Seems  to  me  he  has  got  about  as  much  to  account  for  as 
I  have." 

Kate  stood  breathlessly  still,  looking  at  her  mother. 


360  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

Mrs.  Bates  wiped  her  eyes.  "I  ain't  so  mortal  certain/' 
she  said,  "that  I  don't  open  up  on  him  and  take  the  first 
word.  I  think  likely  I  been  defrauded  out  of  more  that 
really  counts  in  this  world,  than  he  has.  Ain't  that  little 
roly-poly  of  Hannah's  too  sweet  ?  Seems  like  I'll  hardly 
quit  feeling  her  little  sticky  hands  and  her  little  hot 
mouth  on  my  face  when  I  die;  and  as  she  went  out  she 
whispered  in  my  ear:  'Do  it  again,  Grandma,  Oh,  please 
do  it  again!'  an  it's  more'n  likely  I'll  not  get  the  chance, 
no  matter  how  willing  I  am.  Kate,  I  am  going  to  leave 
you  what  of  my  money  is  left — I  haven't  spent  so  much — 
and  while  you  live  here,  I  wish  each  year  you  would 
have  this  same  kind  of  a  party  and  pay  for  it  out 
of  that  money,  and  call  it  'Grandmother's  Party.'  Will 
your 

"I  surely  will,"  said  Kate.  "And  hadn't  I  better  have 
all  of  them,  and  put  some  little  thing  from  you  on  the  tree 
for  them?  You  know  how  Hiram  always  was  wild  for 
cufF  buttons,  and  Mary  could  talk  by  the  hour  about  a 
handkerchief  with  lace  on  it,  and  Andrew  never  yet  has 
got  that  copy  of  'Aesop's  Fables/  he  always  wanted. 
Shall  I ?" 

"Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Bates.  "Oh,yes,  and  when  you  do  it, 
Katie,  if  they  don't  chain  me  pretty  close  in  on  the  other 
side,  I  think  likely  I'll  be  sticking  around  as  near  as  I  can 
get  to  you." 

Kate  slipped  a  hot  brick  rolled  in  flannel  to  the  cold 
old  feet,  and  turning  out  the  light  she  sat  beside  the  bed 
and     stroked    the     tired      head    until    easy    breathing 


LIFE'S  BOOMERANG  361 

told  her  that  her  mother  was  sound  asleep.  Then  she 
went  back  to  the  fireplace  and  sitting  in  the  red  glow  she 
told  Adam,  3d,  part  of  what  her  mother  had  said. 
Long  after  he  was  gone,  she  sat  gazing  into  the  slowly 
graying  coals,  her  mind  busy  with  what  she  had  not  told. 

That  spring  was  difficult  for  Kate.  Day  after  day  she 
saw  her  mother  growing  older,  feebler,  and  frailer.  And 
as  the  body  failed,  up  flamed  the  wings  of  the  spirit, 
carrying  her  on  and  on,  each  day  keeping  her  alive,  when 
Kate  did  not  see  how  it  could  be  done.  With  all  the  force 
she  could  gather,  each  day  Mrs.  Bates  struggled  to  keep 
going,  denied  that  she  felt  badly,  drove  herself  to  try  to 
help  about  the  house  and  garden.  Kate  warned  the  re- 
mainder of  the  family  what  they  might  expect  at  any 
hour;  but  when  they  began  coming  in  oftener,  bringing 
little  gifts  and  being  unusually  kind,  Mrs.  Bates  endured 
a  few  of  the  visits  in  silence,  then  she  turned  to  Kate  and 
said  after  her  latest  callers:  "I  wonder  what  in  the  name 
of  all  possessed  ails  the  folks?  Are  they  just  itching  to 
start  my  funeral?  Can't  they  stay  away  until  you  send 
them  word  that  the  breath's  out  of  my  body?" 

"Mother,  you  shock  me,"  said  Kate.  "They  come 
because  they  love  you.  They  try  to  tell  you  so  with  the 
little  things  they  bring.  Most  people  would  think  they 
were  neglected,  if  their  children  did  not  come  to  see  them 
when  they  were  not  so  well." 

"'Not  so  well!'"  cried  Mrs.  Bates.  "Folly!  I  am  as 
well  as  I  ever  was.  They  needn't  come  snooping  around, 
trying  to  make  me  think  I'm  not.     If  they'd  a-done  it 


362  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

all  their  lives,  well  and  good;  it's  no  time  for  them  to 
begin  being  cotton-mouthed  now." 

"Mother,"  said  Kate  gently,  "haven't  you  changed, 
yourself,  about  things  like  Christmas,  for  example? 
Maybe  your  children  are  changing,  too.  Maybe  they 
feel  that  they  have  missed  something  they'd  like  to  have 
from  you,  and  give  back  to  you,  before  it's  too  late.  Just 
maybe,"  said  Kate. 

Mrs.  Bates  sat  bolt  upright  still,  but  her  flashing  eyes 
softened. 

"I  hadn't  just  thought  of  that,"  she  said.  "I  think  it's 
more  than  likely.  Well,  if  it's  that  way,  I  s'pose  I've  got 
to  button  up  my  lip  and  stand  it;  but  it's  about  more  than 
I  can  go,  when  I  know  that  the  first  time  I  lose  my  grip 
I'll  land  smash  up  against  Adam  Bates  and  my  settle- 
ment with  him." 

"Mother,"  said  Kate  still  more  gently,  "I  thought  we 
had  it  settled  at  the  time  Father  went  that  each  of  you 
would  be  accountable  to  God,  not  to  each  other.  I  am  a 
wanderer  in  darkness  myself,  when  it  comes  to  talking 
about  God,  but  this  I  know,  He  is  somewhere  and  He  is 
redeeming  love.  If  Father  has  been  in  the  light  of  His  love 
all  these  years,  he  must  have  changed  more,  far  more  than 
you  have.  He'll  understand  now  how  wrong  he  was  to 
force  ways  on  you  he  knew  you  didn't  think  right;  he'll 
have  more  to  account  to  you  for  than  you  ever  will  to 
him;  and  remember  this  only,  neither  of  you  is  account- 
able, save  to  your  God." 

Mrs.  Bates  arose  and  walked  to  the  door,  drawn  to  full 


LIFE'S  BOOMERANG  363 

height,  her  head  very  erect.  The  world  was  at  bloom- 
time.  The  evening  air  was  heavily  sweet  with  lilacs,  and 
the  widely  branching,  old  apple  trees  of  the  dooryard 
were  loaded  with  flowers.  She  stepped  outside.  Kate 
followed.  Her  mother  went  down  the  steps  and  down  the 
walk  to  the  gate.  Kate  kept  beside  her,  in  reach,  yet 
not  touching  her.  At  the  gate  she  gripped  the  pickets 
to  steady  herself  as  she  stared  long  and  unflinchingly 
at  the  red  setting  sun  dropping  behind  a  white  wall  of 
bloom.  Then  she  slowly  turned,  life's  greatest  tragedy 
lining  her  face,  her  breath  coming  in  short  gasps.  She 
spread  her  hands  at  each  side,  as  if  to  balance  herself, 
her  passing  soul  in  her  eyes,  and  looked  at  Kate. 

"Katherine  Eleanor,"  she  said  slowly  and  distinctly, 
"I'm  going  now.  I  can't  fight  it  off  any  longer.  I  con- 
fess myself.  I  burned  those  deeds.  Every  one  of  them. 
Pa  got  himself  afire,  but  he'd  thrown  them  out  of  it.  It 
was  my  chance.     I  took  it.     Are  you  going  to  tell  them  ? " 

Kate  was  standing  as  tall  and  straight  as  her  mother, 
her  hands  extended  the  same,  but  not  touching  her. 

"No,"  she  said.  "You  were  an  instrument  in  the  hands 
of  God  to  right  a  great  wrong.  No!  I  shall  never  tell 
a  soul  while  I  live.  In  a  minute  God  himself  will  tell 
you  that  you  did  what  He  willed  you  should." 

"Well,  we  will  see  about  that  right  now,"  said  Mrs. 
Bates,  lifting  her  face  to  the  sky.  "Into  thy  hands, 
O  Lord,  into  thy  hands!" 

Then  she  closed  her  eyes  and  ceased  to  breathe.  Kate 
took  her  into  her  arms  and  carried  her  to  her  bed. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

Somewhat  ©f  Polly 

IF  THE  spirit  of  Mrs.  Bates  hovered  among  the 
bloom-whitened  apple  trees  as  her  mortal  remains 
were  carried  past  the  lilacs  and  cabbage  rose  bushes, 
through  a  rain  of  drifting  petals,  she  must  have  been  con- 
vinced that  time  had  wrought  one  great  change  in  the 
hearts  of  her  children.  They  had  all  learned  to  weep; 
while  if  the  tears  they  shed  were  a  criterion  of  their 
feelings  for  her,  surely  her  soul  must  have  been  satisfied. 
They  laid  her  away  with  simple  ceremony  and  then  all 
of  them  went  to  their  homes,  except  Nancy  Ellen  and 
Robert,  who  stopped  in  passing  to  learn  if  there  was 
anything  they  could  do  for  Kate.  She  was  grieving  too 
deeply  for  many  words;  none  of  them  would  ever  under- 
stand the  deep  bond  of  sympathy  and  companionship 
that  had  grown  to  exist  between  her  and  her  mother. 
She  stopped  at  the  front  porch  and  sat  down,  feeling 
unable  to  enter  the  house  with  Nancy  Ellen,  who  was 
deeply  concerned  over  the  lack  of  taste  displayed  in 
Agatha's  new  spring  hat.  When  Kate  could  endure  it 
no  longer  she  interrupted:  "Why  didn't  all  of  them 
come?" 

"What  for?"  asked  Nancy  Ellen. 

364 


SOMEWHAT  OF  POLLY  365 

"They  had  a  right  to  know  what  Mother  had  done>" 
said  Kate  in  a  low  voice. 

"But  what  was  the  use?"  asked  Nancy  Ellen.  "Adam 
had  been  managing  the  administrator  business  for 
Mother  and  paying  her  taxes  with  his,  of  course  when 
she  made  a  deed  to  you,  and  had  it  recorded,  they  told 
him.  All  of  us  knew  it  for  two  years  before  she  went 
after  you.  And  the  new  furniture  was  bought  with 
your  money,  so  it's  yours;  what  was  there  to  have  a  meet- 
ing about?" 

"Mother  didn't  understand  that  you  children  knew," 
said  Kate. 

"Sometimes  I  thought  there  were  a  lot  of  things 
Mother  didn't  understand,"  said  Nancy  Ellen,  "and  some- 
times I  thought  she  understood  so  much  more  than  any 
of  the  rest  of  us,  that  all  of  us  would  have  had  a  big  sur- 
prise if  we  could  have  seen  her  brain." 

"Yes,  I  believe  we  would,"  said  Kate.  "Do  you 
mind  telling  me  how  the  boys  and  girls  feel  about  this  ? " 

Nancy  Ellen  laughed  shortly.  "Well,  the  boys  feel 
that  you  negotiated  such  a  fine  settlement  of  Father's 
affairs  for  them,  that  they  owe  this  to  you.  The  girls 
were  pretty  sore  at  first,  and  some  of  them  are  nursing 
their  wrath  yet;  but  there  wasn't  a  thing  on  earth  they 
could  do.  All  of  them  were  perfectly  willing  that  you 
should  have  something — after  the  fire — of  course,  most 
of  them  thought  Mother  went  too  far." 

"I  think  so  myself,"  said  Kate.  "But  she  never 
came  near  me,  or  wrote  me,  or  sent  me  even  one  word, 


366  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

until  the  day  she  came  after  me.  I  had  nothing  to  do 
with  it " 

"All  of  us  know  that,  Kate,"  said  Nancy  Ellen.  "You 
needn't  worry.  We're  all  used  to  it,  and  we're  all  at  the 
place  where  we  have  nothing  to  say." 

To  escape  grieving  for  her  mother,  Kate  worked  that 
summer  as  never  before.  Adam  was  growing  big  enough 
and  strong  enough  to  be  a  real  help.  He  was  interested 
in  all  they  did,  always  after  the  reason,  and  trying  to 
think  of  a  better  way.  Kate  secured  the  best  agricultural 
paper  for  him  and  they  read  it  nights  together.  They 
kept  an  account  book,  and  set  down  all  they  spent,  and 
balanced  against  it  all  they  earned,  putting  the  difference, 
which  was  often  more  than  they  hoped  for,  in  the  bank. 

So  the  years  ran.  As  the  children  grew  older,  Polly 
discovered  that  the  nicest  boy  in  school  lived  across  the 
road  half  a  mile  north  of  them;  while  Adam,  after  a  real 
struggle  in  his  loyal  twin  soul,  aided  by  the  fact  that 
Henry  Peters  usually  had  divided  his  apples  with  Polly 
before  Adam  reached  her,  discovered  that  Milly  York, 
across  the  road,  half  a  mile  south,  liked  his  apples  best, 
and  was  as  nice  a  girl  as  Polly  ever  dared  be.  In  a  dazed 
way,  Kate  learned  these  things  from  their  after-school 
and  Sunday  talk,  saw  that  they  nearly  reached  her 
shoulder,  and  realized  that  they  were  sixteen.  So  quickly 
the  time  goes,  when  people  are  busy,  happy,  and  working 
together.  At  least  Kate  and  Adam  were  happy,  for 
they  were  always  working  together.  By  tacit  agreement, 
they   left   Polly   the   easy   housework,    and   went   them- 


SOMEWHAT  OF  POLLY  367 

selves  to  the  fields  to  wrestle  with  the  rugged  work  of  a 
farm.  They  thought  they  were  shielding  Polly,  teaching 
her  a  woman's  real  work,  and  being  kind  to  her. 

Polly  thought  they  were  together  because  they  liked 
to  be;  doing  the  farm  work  because  it  suited  them  better; 
while  she  had  known  from  babyhood  that  for  some 
reason  her  mother  did  not  care  for  her  as  she  did 
for  Adam.  She  thought  at  first  that  it  was  because 
Adam  was  a  boy.  Later,  when  she  noticed  her  mother 
watching  her  every  time  she  started  to  speak,  and  inter- 
rupting with  the  never-failing  caution:  "Now  be  careful! 
Think  before  you  speak!  Are  you  sure?"  she  wondered 
why  this  should  happen  to  her  always,  to  Adam  never. 
She  asked  Adam  about  it,  but  Adam  did  not  know.  It 
never  occurred  to  Polly  to  ask  her  mother,  while  Kate  was 
so  uneasy  it  never  occurred  to  her  that  the  child  would 
notice  or  what  she  would  think.  The  first  time  Polly 
deviated  slightly  from  the  truth,  she  and  Kate  had  a 
very  terrible  time.  Kate  felt  fully  justified;  the  child 
astonished  and  abused. 

Polly  arrived  at  the  solution  of  her  problem  slowly. 
As  she  grew  older,  she  saw  that  her  mother,  who  always 
was  charitable  to  everyone  else,  was  repelled  by  her 
grandmother,  while  she  loved  Aunt  Ollie.  Older  still, 
Polly  realized  that  she  was  a  reproduction  of  her  grand- 
mother. She  had  only  to  look  at  her  to  see  this:  her 
mother  did  not  like  her  grandmother,  maybe  Mother 
did  not  like  her  as  well  as  Adam,  because  she  resembled 
her  grandmother.    By  the  time  she  was  sixteen,  Polly  had 


368  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

arrived  at  a  solution  that  satisfied  her  as  to  why  her 
mother  liked  Adam  better,  and  always  left  her  alone  in 
the  house  to  endless  cooking,  dishwashing,  sweeping, 
dusting,  washing,  and  ironing,  while  she  hoed  potatoes, 
pitched  hay,  or  sheared  sheep.  Polly  thought  the  nicer 
way  would  have  been  to  do  the  housework  together  and 
then  go  to  the  fields  together;  but  she  was  a  good  soul, 
so  she  worked  alone  and  brooded  in  silence,  and  watched 
up  the  road  for  a  glimpse  of  Henry  Peters,  who  liked 
to  hear  her  talk,  and  to  whom  it  mattered  not  a  mite 
that  her  hair  was  lustreless,  her  eyes  steel  coloured,  and  her 
nose  like  that  of  a  woman  he  never  had  seen.  In  her 
way,  Polly  admired  her  mother,  loved  her,  and  worked 
until  she  was  almost  dropping  for  Kate's  scant,  infrequent 
words  of  praise. 

So  Polly  had  to  be  content  in  the  kitchen.  One  day, 
having  finished  her  work  two  hours  before  dinnertime,  she 
sauntered  to  the  front  gate.  How  strange  that  Henry 
Peters  should  be  at  the  end  of  the  field  joining  their  land. 
When  he  waved,  she  waved  back.  When  he  climbed  the 
fence  she  opened  the  gate.  They  met  halfway,  under 
the  bloomful  shade  of  a  red  haw.  Henry  wondered 
who  two  men  he  had  seen  leaving  the  Holt  gate  were, 
and  what  they  wanted,  but  he  was  too  polite  to  ask. 
He  merely  hoped  they  did  not  annoy  her.  Oh,  no,  they 
were  only  some  men  to  see  Mother  about  some  business, 
but  it  was  most  kind  of  him  to  let  her  know  he  was  look- 
ing out  for  her.  She  got  so  lonely;  Mother  never  would 
let  her  go  to  the  field  with  her.     Of  course  not !     The  field 


SOMEWHAT  OF  POLLY  369 

was  no  place  for  such  a  pretty  girl;  there  was  enough 
work  in  the  house  for  her.  His  sister  should  not  work  in 
the  field,  if  he  had  a  sister,  and  Polly  should  not  work 
there,  if  she  belonged  to  him;  No-sir-ee!  Polly  looked 
at  Henry  with  shining,  young  girl  eyes,  and  when  he  said 
she  was  pretty,  her  blue-gray  eyes  softened,  her  cheeks 
pinked  up,  the  sun  put  light  in  her  hair  nature  had  failed 
to,  and  lo  and  behold,  the  marvel  was  wrought — plain 
little  Polly  became  a  thing  of  beauty.  She  knew  it  in- 
stantly, because  she  saw  herself  in  Henry  Peters'  eyes.  And 
Henry  was  so  amazed  when  this  wonderful  transformation 
took  place  in  little  Polly,  right  there  under  the  red  hawtree, 
that  his  own  eyes  grew  big  and  tender,  his  cheeks  flooded 
with  red  blood,  his  heart  shook  him,  and  he  drew  to  full 
height,  and  became  possessed  of  an  overwhelming  desire 
to  dance  before  Polly,  and  sing  to  her.  He  grew  so 
splendid,  Polly  caught  her  breath,  and  then  she  smiled 
on  him  a  very  wondering  smile,  over  the  great  discovery; 
and  Henry  grew  so  bewildered  he  forgot  either  to  dance 
or  sing  as  a  preliminary.  He  merely,  just  merely,  reached 
out  and  gathered  Polly  in  his  arms,  and  held  her  against 
him,  and  stared  down  at  her  wonderful  beauty  opening 
right  out  under  his  eyes. 

"Little  Beautiful!"  said  Henry  Peters  in  a  hushed, 
choking  voice,  "Little  Beautiful!" 

Polly  looked  up  at  him.  She  was  every  bit  as  beautiful 
as  he  thought  her,  while  he  was  so  beautiful  to  Polly  that 
she  gasped  for  breath.  How  did  he  happen  to  look  as 
he  did,  right  under  the  red  haw,  in  broad  daylight?     He 


370  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

had  been  hers,  of  course,  ever  since,  shy  and  fearful,  she 
had  first  entered  Bates  Corners  school,  and  found 
courage  in  his  broad,  encouraging  smile.  Now  she 
smiled  on  him,  the  smile  of  possession  that  was  in  her 
heart.  Henry  instantly  knew  she  always  had  belonged 
to  him,  so  he  grasped  her  closer,  and  bent  his  head. 
When  Henry  went  back  to  the  plow,  and  Polly  ran 
down  the  road,  with  the  joy  of  the  world  surging  in  her 
heart  and  brain,  she  knew  that  she  was  going  to  have 
to  account  to  her  tired,  busy  mother  for  being  half  an 
hour  late  with  dinner;  and  he  knew  he  was  going  to  have 
to  explain  to  an  equally  tired  father  why  he  was  four 
furrows  short  of  where  he  should  be. 

He  came  to  book  first,  and  told  the  truth.  He  had 
seen  some  men  go  to  Holts'.  Polly  was  his  little  chum; 
and  she  was  always  alone  all  summer,  so  he  just  walked 
that  way  to  be  sure  she  was  safe.  His  father  looked  at 
him  quizzically. 

"So  that's  the  way  the  wind  blows!"  he  said.  "Well, 
I  don't  know  where  you  could  find  a  nicer  little  girl  or  a 
better  worker.  I'd  always  hoped  you'd  take  to  Milly 
York;  but  Polly  is  better;  she  can  work  three  of  Milly 
down.     Awful  plain,  though!" 

This  sacrilege  came  while  Henry's  lips  were  tingling 
with  their  first  kiss,  and  his  heart  was  drunken  with  the 
red  wine  of  innocent  young  love. 

"Why,  Dad,  you're  crazy!"  he  cried.  "There  isn't 
another  girl  in  the  whole  world  as  pretty  and  sweet  as 
Polly.    Milly  York?    She  can't  hold  a  candle  to  Polly! 


SOMEWHAT  OF  POLLY       •  371 

Besides,  she's  been  Adam's  as  long  as  Polly  has  been 
mine!" 

"God  bless  my  soul!"  cried  Mr.  Peters.  "How  these 
youngsters  do  run  away  with  us.  And  are  you  the  most 
beautiful  young  man  at  Bates  Corners,  Henry?" 

"I'm  beautiful  enough  that  Polly  will  put  her  arms 
around  my  neck  and  kiss  me,  anyway,"  blurted  Henry. 
"So  you  and  Ma  can  get  ready  for  a  wedding  as  soon  as 
Polly  says  the  word.    I'm  ready,  right  now." 

"So  am  I,"  said  Mr.  Peters,  "and  from  the  way  Ma 
complains  about  the  work  I  and  you  boys  make  her,  I 
don't  think  she  will  object  to  a  little  help.  Polly  is  a  good, 
steady  worker." 

Polly  ran,  but  she  simply  could  not  light  the  fire,  set 
the  table,  and  get  things  cooked  on  time,  while  everything 
she  touched  seemed  to  spill  or  slip.  She  could  not  think 
what,  or  how,  to  do  as  usual  for  the  very  good  reason  that 
Henry  Peters  was  a  Prince,  and  a  Knight,  and  a  Lover, 
and  a  Sweetheart,  and  her  Man;  she  had  just  agreed  to 
all  this  with  her  soul,  less  than  an  hour  ago  under  the 
red  haw.  No  wonder  she  was  late,  no  wonder  she  spilled 
and  smeared;  and  red  of  face  she  blundered  and  bungled, 
for  the  first  time  in  her  life.  Then  in  came  Kate.  She 
must  lose  no  time,  the  corn  must  be  finished  before  it 
rained.  She  must  hurry — and  for  the  first  time  dinner 
was  late,  while  Polly  was  messing  like  a  perfect  little  fool. 

Kate  stepped  in  and  began  to  right  things  with  prac- 
tised hand.  Disaster  came  when  she  saw  Polly,  at  the 
well,   take   an   instant   from   bringing  in   the  water,   to 


372  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

wave  in  the  direction  of  the  Peters  farm.  As  she  entered 
the  door,  Kate  swept  her  with  a  glance. 

"Have  to  upset  the  bowl,  as  usual?"  she  said,  scath- 
ingly. "Just  as  I  think  you're  going  to  make  something 
of  yourself,  and  be  of  some  use,  you  begin  mooning  in 
the  direction  of  that  big,  gangling  Hank  Peters.  Don't 
you  ever  let  me  see  you  do  it  again.  You  are  too  young 
to  start  that  kind  of  foolishness.  I  bet  a  cow  he  was 
hanging  around  here,  and  made  you  late  with  dinner." 

"He  was  not!  He  didn't  either!"  cried  Polly,  then 
stopped  in  dismay,  her  cheeks  burning.  She  gulped  and 
went  on  bravely:  "That  is,  he  wasn't  here,  and  he 
didn't  make  me  late,  any  more  than  I  kept  him  from  his 
work.  He  always  watches  when  there  are  tramps  and 
peddlers  on  the  road,  because  he  knows  I'm  alone.  I 
knew  he  would  be  watching  two  men  who  stopped  to  see 
you,  so  I  just  went  as  far  as  the  haw  tree  to  tell  him  I  was 
all  right,  and  we  got  to  talking " 

If  only  Kate  had  been  looking  at  Polly  then !  But  she 
was  putting  the  apple  butter  and  cream  on  the  table. 
As  she  did  so,  she  thought  possibly  it  was  a  good  idea  to 
have  Henry  Peters  seeing  that  tramps  did  not  frighten 
Polly,  so  she  missed  dawn*  on  the  face  of  her  child,  and 
instead  of  what  might  have  been,  she  said:  "Well,  I 
must  say  that  is  neighbourly  of  him;  but  don't  you  dare 
let  him  get  any  foolish  notions  in  his  head.  I  think 
Aunt  Nancy  Ellen  will  let  you  stay  at  her  house  after 
this,  and  go  to  the  Hartley  High  School  in  winter,  so 
you  can  come  out  of  that  much  better  prepared  to  teach 


SOMEWHAT  OF  POLLY  373 

than  I  ever  was.  I  had  a  surprise  planned  for  you  to- 
night, but  now  I  don't  know  whether  you  deserve  it  or 
not.    I'll  have  to  think." 

Kate  did  not  think  at  all.  After  the  manner  of  parents, 
she  said  that,  but  her  head  was  full  of  something  she 
thought  vastly  more  important  just  then;  of  course 
Polly  should  have  her  share  in  it.  Left  alone  to  wash  the 
dishes  and  cook  supper  while  her  mother  went  to  town, 
it  was  Polly  who  did  the  thinking.  She  thought  entirely 
too  much,  thought  bitterly,  thought  disappointedly,  and 
finally  thought  resentfully,  and  then  alas,  Polly  thought 
deceitfully.  Her  mother  had  said:  "Never  let  me  see 
you."  Very  well,  she  would  be  extremely  careful  that 
she  was  not  seen;  but  before  she  slept  she  rather  thought 
she  would  find  a  way  to  let  Henry  know  how  she  was  being 
abused,  and  about  that  plan  to  send  her  away  all  the 
long  winter  to  school.  She  rather  thought  Henry  would 
have  something  to  say  about  how  his  "Little  Beautiful" 
was  being  treated.  Here  Polly  looked  long  and  searchingly 
in  the  mirror  to  see  if  by  any  chance  Henry  was  mistaken, 
and  she  discovered  that  he  was.  She  stared  in  amazement 
at  the  pink-cheeked,  shining  eyed  girl  she  saw  mirrored. 
She  pulled  her  hair  looser  around  the  temples,  and  drew 
her  lips  over  her  teeth.  Surely  Henry  was  mistaken. 
"Little  Beautiful"  was  too  moderate.  She  would  see 
that  he  said  "perfectly  lovely,"  the  next  time,  and  he  did. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 
Kate's  Heavenly  Time 

ONE  evening  Kate  and  Polly  went  to  the  front 
porch  to  rest  until  bedtime  and  found  a  shin- 
ing big  new  trunk  sitting  there,  with  Kate's 
initials  on  the  end,  her  name  on  the  check  tag,  and  a 
key  in  the  lock.  They  unbuckled  the  straps,  turned  the 
key,  and  lifted  the  lid.  That  trunk  contained  under- 
clothing, hose,  shoes,  two  hats,  a  travelling  dress  with 
half  a  dozen  extra  waists,  and  an  afternoon  and  an  even- 
ing dress,  all  selected  with  especial  reference  to  Kate's 
colouring,  and  made  one  size  larger  than  Nancy  Ellen 
wore,  which  fitted  Kate  perfectly.  There  were  gloves, 
a  parasol,  and  a  note  which  read: 

Dear  Kate: 

Here  are  some  clothes.  I  am  going  to  go  North  a  week  after 
harvest.  You  can  be  spared  then  as  well  as  not.  Come  on!  Let's 
run  away  and  have  one  good  time  all  by  ourselves.  It  is  my  treat 
from  start  to  finish.  The  children  can  manage  the  farm  perfectly 
well.  Any  one  of  her  cousins  will  stay  with  Polly,  if  she  will  be 
lonely.  Cut  loose  and  come  on,  Kate.  I  am  going.  Of  course  Robert 
couldn't  be  pried  away  from  his  precious  patients;  we  will  have  to 
go  alone;  but  we  do  not  care.  We  like  it.  Shall  we  start  about  the 
tenth,  on  the  night  train,  which  will  be  cooler? 

Nancy  Ellen. 

374 


KATE'S  HEAVENLY  TIME  375 

"We  shall!"  said  Kate  emphatically,  when  she  finished 
the  note.  "I  haven't  cut  loose  and  had  a  good  time  since 
I  was  married;  not  for  eighteen  years.  If  the  children 
are  not  big  enough  to  take  care  of  themselves.,  they  never 
will  be.     I  can  go  as  well  as  not." 

She  handed  the  note  to  Polly,  while  she  shook  out 
dresses  and  gloated  over  the  contents  of  the  trunk. 

"Of  course  you  shall  go!"  shouted  Polly  as  she  finished 
the  note,  but  even  as  she  said  it  she  glanced  obliquely 
up  the  road  and  waved  a  hand  behind  her  mother's  back. 

"Sure  you  shall  go!"  cried  Adam,  when  he  finished  the 
note,  and  sat  beside  the  trunk  seeing  all  the  pretty  things 
over  again.  "You  just  bet  you  shall  go.  Polly  and  I 
can  keep  house,  fine!  We  don't  need  any  cousins  hanging 
around.  I'll  help  Polly  with  her  work,  and  then  we'll 
lock  the  house  and  she  can  come  out  with  me.  Sure  you 
go!  We'll  do  all  right."  Then  he  glanced  obliquely  down 
the  road,  where  a  slim  little  figure  in  white  moved  under 
the  cherry  trees  of  the  York  front  yard,  aimlessly  knocking 
croquet  balls  here  and  there. 

It  was  two  weeks  until  time  to  go,  but  Kate  began 
taking  care  of  herself  at  once,  solely  because  she  did  not 
want  Nancy  Ellen  to  be  ashamed  of  her.  She  rolled  her 
sleeves  down  to  meet  her  gloves  and  used  a  sunbonnet 
instead  of  a  sunshade.  She  washed  and  brushed  her 
hair  with  care  she  had  not  used  in  years.  By  the  time 
the  tenth  of  July  came,  she  was  in  very  presentable 
condition,  while  the  contents  of  the  trunk  did  the  re- 
mainder.    As  she  was   getting  ready  to  go,  she  said  to 


376  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

Polly:  "Now  do  your  best  while  I'm  away,  and  I  am 
sure  I  can  arrange  with  Nancy  Ellen  about  school  this 
winter.  When  I  get  back,  the  very  first  thing  I  shall  do  will 
be  to  go  to  Hartley  and  buy  some  stuff  to  begin  on  your 
clothes.  You  shall  have  as  nice  dresses  as  the  other  girls, 
too.     Nancy  Ellen  will  know  exactly  what  to  get  you." 

But  she  never  caught  a  glimpse  of  Polly's  flushed,  dis- 
satisfied face  or  the  tightening  of  her  lips  that  would  have 
suggested  to  her,  had  she  seen  them,,  that  Miss  Polly  felt 
perfectly  capable  of  selecting  the  clothing  she  was  to  wear 
herself.  Adam  took  his  mother's  trunk  to  the  station 
in  the  afternoon.  In  the  evening  she  held  Polly  on  her 
knee,  while  they  drove  to  Dr.  Gray's.  Kate  thought  the 
children  would  want  to  wait  and  see  them  take  the 
train,  but  Adam  said  that  would  make  them  very  late 
getting  home,  they  had  better  leave  that  to  Uncle  Robert 
and  go  back  soon;  so  very  soon  they  were  duly  kissed 
and  unduly  cautioned;  then  started  back  down  a  side 
street  that  would  not  even  take  them  through  the  heart 
of  the  town.  Kate  looked  after  them  approvingly: 
"Pretty  good  youngsters,"  she  said.  "I  told  them  to 
go  and  get  some  ice  cream;  but  you  see  they  are  saving 
the  money  and  heading  straight  home."  She  turned  to 
Robert.  "Can  anything  happen  to  them?"  she  asked,  in 
evident  anxiety. 

"Rest  in  peace,  Kate,"  laughed  the  doctor.-  "You 
surely  know  that  those  youngsters  are  going  to  be  eighteen 
in  a  few  weeks.  You've  reared  them  carefully.  Nothing 
can,  or  will,  happen  to  them,  that  would  not  happen 


KATE'S  HEAVENLY  TIME  377 

right  under  your  nose  if  you  were  at  home.  They  will  go 
from  now  on  according  to  their  inclinations." 

Kate  looked  at  him  sharply.  "What  do  you  mean  by 
that?"  she  demanded. 

He  laughed:  "Nothing  serious,"  he  said.  "Polly  is 
half  Bates,  so  she  will  marry  in  a  year  or  two,  while 
Adam  is  all  Bates,  so  he  will  remain  steady  as  the  Rock 
of  Ages,  and  strictly  on  the  job.  Go  have  your  good  time, 
and  if  I  possibly  can,  I'll  come  after  you." 

"You'll  do  nothing  of  the  kind,"  said  Nancy  Ellen, 
with  finality.  "You  wouldn't  leave  your  patients,  and 
you  couldn't  leave  dear  Mrs.  Southey." 

"If  you  feel  that  way  about  it,  why  do  you  leave  me?" 
he  asked. 

"To  show  the  little  fool  I'm  not  afraid  of  her,  for  one 
thing,"  said  Nancy  Ellen  with  her  head  high.  She  was 
very  beautiful  in  her  smart  travelling  dress,  while  her 
eyes  flashed  as  she  spoke.  The  doctor  looked  at  her 
approvingly. 

"Good!"  he  cried.  "I  like  a  plucky  woman!  Goto 
have  a  good  time,  Nancy  Ellen;  but  don't  go  for  that. 
I  do  wish  you  would  believe  that  there  isn't  a  thing  the 
matter  with  the  little  woman,  she's " 

"I  can  go  even  farther  than  that,"  said  Nancy  Elfen, 
dryly.  "I  know  'there  isn't  a  thing  the  matter  with  the 
little  woman, '  except  that  she  wants  you  to  look  as  if  you 
were  running  after  her.  I'd  be  safe  in  wagering  a  thousand 
dollars  that  when  she  hears  I'm  gone,  she  will  send  for 
you  before  to-morrow  evening." 


378  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

"You  may  also  wager  this,"  he  said.  "If  she  does, 
I  shall  be  very  sorry,  but  I'm  on  my  way  to  the  country 
on  an  emergency  call.    Nancy  Ellen,  I  wish  you  wouldn't ! " 

"Wouldn't  go  North,  or  wouldn't  see  what  every 
other  living  soul  in  Hartley  sees?"  she  asked  curtly. 
Then  she  stepped  inside  to  put  on  her  hat  and  gloves. 

Kate  looked  at  the  doctor  in  dismay.  "Oh,  Robert!" 
she  said. 

"I  give  you  my  word  of  honour,  Kate,"  he  said.  "If 
Nancy  Ellen  only  would  be  reasonable,  the  woman  would 
see  shortly  that  my  wife  is  all  the  world  to  me.  I  never 
have  been,  and  never  shall  be,  untrue  to  her.  Does  that 
satisfy  you?" 

"Of  course,"  said  Kate.  "I'll  do  all  in  my  power  to 
talk  Nancy  Ellen  out  of  that,  on  this  trip.  Oh,  if  she 
only  had  children  to  occupy  her  time!" 

"That's  the  whole  trouble  in  a  nutshell,"  said  the 
doctor;  "but  you  know  there  isn't  a  scarcity  of  children 
in  the  world.  Never  a  day  passes  but  I  see  half  a  dozen 
who  need  me,  sorely.  But  with  Nancy  Ellen,  no  child 
will  do  unless  she  mothers  it,  and  unfortunately,  none 
comes  to  her." 

"Too  bad!"  said  Kate.     "I'm  so  sorry!" 

"Cheer  her  up,  if  you  can,"  said  the  doctor. 

An  hour  later  they  were  speeding  north,  Nancy  Ellen 
moody  and  distraught,  Kate  as  frankly  delighted  as 
any  child.  The  spring  work  was  over;  the  crops  were 
fine;  Adam  would  surely  have  the  premium  wheat  to 
take  to  the  County    Fair  in  September;  he  would  work 


KATE'S  HEAVENLY  TIME  379 

unceasingly  for  his  chance  with  corn;  he  and  Polly  would 
be  all  right;  she  could  see  Polly  waiting  in  the  stable  yard 
while  Adam  unharnessed  and  turned  out  the  horse. 

Kate  kept  watching  Nancy  Ellen's  discontented  face. 
At  last  she  said:  "Cheer  up,  child!  There  isn't  a 
word  of  truth  in  it ! " 

"I  know  it,"  said  Nancy  Ellen. 

"Then  why  take  the  way  of  all  the  world  to  start,  and 
keep  people  talking?"  asked  Kate. 

"I'm  not  doing  a  thing  on  earth  but  attending  strictly 
to  my  own  business,"  said  Nancy  Ellen. 

"That's  exactly  the  trouble,"  said  Kate.  "You're  not. 
You  let  the  little  heifer  have  things  all  her  own  way.  If 
it  were  my  man,  and  I  loved  him  as  you  do  Robert  Gray, 
you  can  stake  your  life  I  should  be  doing  something, 
several  things,  in  fact." 

"This  is  interesting,"  said  Nancy  Ellen.  "For  ex- 
ample  ?" 

Kate  had  not  given  such  a  matter  a  thought.  She 
looked  from  the  window  a  minute,  her  lips  firmly  com- 
pressed. Then  she  spoke  slowly:  "Well,  for  one  thing, 
I  should  become  that  woman's  bosom  companion.  About 
seven  times  a  week  I  should  uncover  her  most  aggravat- 
ing weakness  all  unintentionally  before  the  man  in  the 
case,  at  the  same  time  keeping  myself,  strictly  myself.  I 
should  keep  steadily  on  doing  and  being  what  he  first  fell 
in  love  with.  Lastly,  since  eighteen  years  have  brought 
you  no  fulfillment  of  the  desire  of  your  heart,  I  should 
give  it  up,  and  content  myself  and  delight  him  by  taking 


38o  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

into  my  heart  and  home  a  couple  of  the  most  at- 
tractive tiny  babies  I  could  find.  Two  are  scarcely  more 
trouble  than  one;  you  can  have  all  the  help  you  will 
accept;  the  children  would  never  know  the  difference,  if 
you  took  them  as  babies,  and  soon  you  wouldn't  either; 
while  Robert  would  be  delighted.  If  I  were  you,  I'd 
give  myself  something  to  work  for  besides  myself,  and  I'd 
give  him  so  much  to  think  about  at  home,  that  charm- 
ing young  grass  widows  could  go  to  grass!" 

"I  believe  you  would,"  said  Nancy  Ellen,  wonderingly. 
"I  believe  you  would!" 

"You're  mighty  right,  I  would,"  said  Kate.  "If  I 
were  married  to  a  man  like  Robert  Gray,  I'd  fight  tooth 
and  nail  before  I'd  let  him  fall  below  his  high  ideals. 
It's  as  much  your  job  to  keep  him  up,  as  it  is  his  to 
keep  himself.  If  God  didn't  make  him  a  father,  I  would, 
and  I'd  keep  him  busy  on  the  job,  if  I  had  to  adopt  six- 
teen." 

Nancy  Ellen  laughed,  as  they  went  to  their  berths. 
The  next  morning  they  awakened  in  cool  Michigan 
country  and  went  speeding  north  among  evergreen 
forests  and  clear  lakes  mirroring  the  pointed  forest  tops 
and  blue  sky,  past  slashing,  splashing  streams,  in  which 
they  could  almost  see  the  speckled  trout  darting  over  the 
beds  of  white  sand.  By  late  afternoon  they  had  reached 
their  destination  and  were  in  their  rooms,  bathed,  dressed, 
and  ready  for  the  dinner  hour.  In  the  evening  they  went 
walking,  coming  back  to  the  hotel  tired  and  happy. 
After   several   days   they   began   talking  to   people   and 


KATE'S  HEAVENLY  TIME  381 

making  friends,  going  out  in  fishing  and  boating  parties 
in  the  morning,  driving  or  boating  in  the  afternoon,  and 
attending  concerts  or  dances  at  night.  Kate  did  not 
dance,  but  she  loved  to  see  Nancy  Ellen  when  she  had  a 
sufficiently  tall,  graceful  partner;  while,  as  she  watched 
the  young  people  and  thought  how  innocent  and  happy 
they  seemed,  she  asked  her  sister  if  they  could  not  pos- 
sibly arrange  for  Adam  and.  Polly  to  go  to  Hartley 
a  night  or  two  a  week  that  winter,  and  join  the  dancing 
class.  Nancy  Ellen  was  frankly  delighted,  so  Kate 
cautiously  skirted  the  school  question  in  such  a  manner 
that  she  soon  had  Nancy  Ellen  asking  if  it  could  not  be 
arranged.  When  that  was  decided,  Nancy  Ellen  went 
to  dance,  while  Kate  stood  on  the  veranda  watching  her. 
The  lights  from  the  window  fell  strongly  on  Kate.  She 
was  wearing  her  evening  dress  of  smoky  gray,  soft  fabric, 
over  shining  silk,  with  knots  of  dull  blue  velvet  and  gold 
lace  here  and  there.  She  had  dressed  her  hair  carefully; 
she  appeared  what  she  was,  a  splendid  specimen  of  healthy, 
vigorous,  clean  womanhood. 

"  Pardon  me,  Mrs.  Holt,"  said  a  voice  at  her  elbow, 
"but  there's  only  one  head  in  this  world  like  yours,  so 
this,  of  course,  must  be  you." 

Kate's  heart  leaped  and  stood  still.  She  turned  slowly, 
then  held  out  her  hand,  smiling  at  John  Jardine,  but 
saying  not  a  word.  He  took  the  hand,  and  as  he  gripped 
it  tightly  he  studied  her  frankly. 

"Thank  God  for  this!"  he  said,  fervently.  "For  years 
I've  dreamed  of  you  and  hungered  for  the  sight  of  your 


382  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

face;  but  you  cut  me  off  squarely,  so  I  dared  not  intrude  on 
you — only  the  Lord  knows  how  delighted  I  am  to  see  you 
here,  looking  like  this." 

Kate  smiled  again. 

"Come  away,"  he  begged.  "Come  out  of  this.  Come 
walk  a  little  way  with  me,  and  tell  me  who  you  are,  and 
how  you  are,  and  all  the  things  I  think  of  every  day  of 
my  life,  and  now  I  must  know.  It's  brigandage!  Come, 
or  I  shall  carry  you!" 

"Pooh!  You  couldn't!"  laughed  Kate.  "Of  course 
I'll  come!  And  I  don't  own  a  secret.  Ask  anything 
you  want  to  know.  How  good  it  is  to  see  you!  Your 
mother ? " 

"At  rest,  years  ago,"  he  said.  "She  never  forgave  me 
for  what  I  did,  in  the  way  I  did  it.  She  said  it  would 
bring  disaster,  and  she  was  right.  I  thought  it  was  not 
fair  and  honest  not  to  let  you  know  the  worst.  I  thought 
I  was  too  old,  and  too  busy,  and  too  flourishing,  to  repair 
neglected  years  at  that  date,  but  believe  me,  Kate,  you 
waked  me  up.  Try  the  hardest  one  you  know,  and  if  I 
can't  spell  it,  I'll  pay  a  thousand  to  your  pet  charity." 

Kate  laughed  spontaneously.  "Are  you  in  earnest?" 
she  asked. 

"I  am  incomprehensibly,  immeasurably  in  earnest,"  he 
said,  guiding  her  down  a  narrow  path  to  a  shrub-enclosed, 
railed-in  platform,  built  on  the  steep  side  of  a  high  hill, 
where  they  faced  the  moon-whitened  waves,  rolling  softly 
in  a  dancing  procession  across  the  face  of  the  great  inland 
sea.     Here  he  found  a  seat. 


KATE'S  HEAVENLY  TIME  383 

"Fve  nothing  to  tell,"  he  said.  "I  lost  Mother,  so  I 
went  on  without  her.  I  learned  to  spell,  and  a  great 
many  others  things,  and  I'm  still  making  money.  I 
never  forget  you  for  a  day;  I  never  have  loved  and  never 
shall  love  any  other  woman.  That's  all  about  me,  in  a 
nutshell;  now  go  on  and  tell  me  a  volume,  tell  me  all 
night,  about  you.  Heavens,  woman,  I  wish  you  could  see 
yourself,  in  that  dress  with  the  moon  on  your  hair.  Kate, 
you  are  the  superbest  thing!  I  always  shall  be  mad 
about  you.  Oh,  if  only  you  could  have  had  a  little 
patience  with  me.  I  thought  I  couldn't  learn,  but  of 
course  I  could.     But,  proceed !     I  mustn't  let  myself  go." 

Kate  leaned  back  and  looked  a  long  time  at  the  shin- 
ing white  waves  and  the  deep  blue  sky,  then  she  turned 
to  John  Jardine,  and  began  to  talk.  She  told  him  simply 
a  few  of  the  most  presentable  details  of  her  life:  how  she 
had  lost  her  money,  then  had  been  given  her  mother's  farm, 
about  the  children,  and  how  she  now  lived.  He  listened 
with  deep  interest,  often  interrupting  to  ask  a  question, 
and  when  she  ceased  talking  he  said  half  under  his  breath: 
"And  you're  now  free!  Oh,  the  wonder  of  it!  You're 
now,  free!" 

Kate  had  that  night  to  think  about  the  remainder  of  her 
life.  She  always  sincerely  hoped  that  the  moonlight  did 
not  bewitch  her  into  leading  the  man  beside  her  into  say- 
ing things  he  seemed  to  take  delight  in  saying. 

She  had  no  idea  what  time  it  was;  in  fact,  she  did  not 
care  even  what  Nancy  Ellen  thought  or  whether  she 
would  worry.     The  night  was  wonderful;  John  Jardine 


384  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

had  now  made  a  man  of  himself  worthy  of  all  consideration; 
being  made  love  to  by  him  was  enchanting.  She  had  been 
occupied  with  the  stern  business  of  daily  bread  for  so  long 
that  to  be  again  clothed  as  other  women  and  frankly  adored 
by  such  a  man  as  John  Jardine  was  soul  satisfying.  What 
did  she  care  who  worried  or  what  time  it  was  ? 

"But  I'm  keeping  you  here  until  you  will  be  wet  with 
these  mists,"  John  Jardine  cried  at  last.  "Forgive  me, 
Kate,  I  never  did  have  any  sense  where  you  were  con- 
cerned! I'll  take  you  back  now,  but  you  must  promise 
me  to  meet  me  here  in  the  morning,  say  at  ten  o'clock. 
I'll  take  you  back  now,  if  you'll  agree  to  that." 

"There's  no  reason  why  I  shouldn't,"  said  Kate. 

"And  you're  free,  free!"  he  repeated. 

The  veranda,  halls,  and  ballroom  were  deserted  when 
they  returned  to  the  hotel.  As  Kate  entered  her  room, 
Nancy  Ellen  sat  up  in  bed  and  stared  at  her  sleepily,  but 
she  was  laughing  in  high  good  humour.  She  drew  her 
watch  from  under  her  pillow  and  looked  at  it. 

"Goodness  gracious,  Miss!"  she  cried.  "Do  you  know 
it's  almost  three  o'clock?" 

"I  don't  care  in  the  least,"  said  Kate,  "if  it's  four  or 
five.  I've  had  a  perfectly  heavenly  time.  Don't  talk 
to  me.  I'll  put  out  the  light  and  be  quiet  as  soon  as  I 
get  my  dress  off.     I  think  likely  I've  ruined  it." 

"What's  the  difference?"  demanded  Nancy  Ellen, 
largely.  "You  can  ruin  half  a  dozen  a  day  now,  if  you 
want  to." 

"What  do  you  mean?"  asked  Kate. 


KATE'S  HEAVENLY  TIME  385 

"'Mean? '"  laughed  Nancy  Ellen.  "I  mean  that  I  saw 
John  Jardine  or  his  ghost  come  up  to  you  on  the  veranda, 
looking  as  if  he'd  eat  you  alive,  and  carry  you  away 
about  nine  o'clock,  and  you've  been  gone  six  hours  and 
come  back  having  had  a  'perfectly  heavenly  time.'  What 
should  I  mean!  Go  up  head,  Kate!  You  have  earned 
your  right  to  a  good  time.  It  isn't  everybody  who  gets  a 
second  chance  in  this  world.  Tell  me  one  thing,  and  I'll 
go  to  sleep  in  peace  and  leave  you  to  moon  the  remainder 
of  the  night,  if  you  like.  Did  he  say  he  still  loved 
you?" 

"Still  and  yet,"  laughed  Kate.  "As  I  remember,  his 
exact  words  were  that  he  'never  had  loved  and  never 
would  love  any  other  woman.'     Now  are  you  satisfied?" 

Nancy  Ellen  sprang  from  the  bed  and  ran  to  Kate, 
gathering  her  in  her  strong  arms.  She  hugged  and 
kissed  her  ecstatically.  "Good!  Good!  Oh,  you  darling!" 
she  cried.  "There'll  be  nothing  in  the  world  you  can't 
have!  I  just  know  he  has  gone  on  making  money;  he  was 
crazy  about  you.  Oh,  Kate,  this  is  too  good!  How  did 
I  ever  think  of  coming  here,  and  why  didn't  I  think  of  it; 
seven  years  ago?  Kate,  you  must  promise  me  you'll' 
marry  him,  before  I  let  you  go." 

"I'll  promise  to  think  about  it,"  said  Kate,  trying  to 
free  herself,  for  despite  the  circumstance  and  the  hour, 
her  mind  flew  back  to  a  thousand  times  when  only  one 
kind  word  from  Nancy  Ellen  would  have  saved  her  end- 
less pain.  It  was  endless,  for  it  was  burning  in  her  heart 
that  instant.     At  the  prospect  of  wealth,  position,  and 


386  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

power,  Nancy  Ellen  could  smother  her  with  caresses;  but 
poverty,  pain,  and  disgrace  she  had  endured  alone. 

"I  shan't  let  you  go  till  you  promise,"  threatened 
Nancy  Ellen.     "When  are  you  to  see  him  again?" 

"Ten,  this  morning,"  said  Kate.  "You  better  let  me 
get  to  bed,  or  I'll  look  a  sight." 

"Then  promise,"  said  Nancy  Ellen. 

Kate  laid  firm  hands  on  the  encircling  arms.  "Now, 
look  here,"  she  said,  shortly,  "it's  about  time  to  stop  this 
nonsense.  There's  nothing  I  can  promise  you.  I  must 
have  time  to  think.  I've  got  not  only  myself,  but  the 
children  to  think  for.  And  I've  only  got  till  ten  o'clock, 
so  I  better  get  at  it." 

Kate's  tone  made  Nancy  Ellen  step  back. 

"Kate,  you  haven't  still  got  that  letter  in  your  mind, 
have  you?"  she  demanded. 

"No!"  laughed  Kate,  "I  haven't!  He  offered  me  a 
thousand  dollars  if  I  could  pronounce  him  a  word  he 
couldn't  spell;  and  it's  perfectly  evident  he's  studied  until 
he  is  exactly  like  anybody  else.     No,  it's  not  that!" 

"Then  what  is  it?  Simpleton,  there  was  nothing  else!" 
cried  Nancy  Ellen. 

"Not  so  much  at  that  time;  but  this  is  nearly  twenty 
years  later,  and  I  have  the  fate  of  my  children  in  my  hands. 
I  wish  you'd  go  to  bed  and  let  me  think!"  said  Kate. 

"Yes,  and  the  longer  you  think  the  crazier  you  will  act," 
cried  Nancy  Ellen.  "I  know  you!  You  better  promise 
me  now,  and  stick  to  it." 

For  answer  Kate  turned  off  the  light;  but  she  did  not 


KATE'S  HEAVENLY  TIME  387 

go  to  bed.  She  sat  beside  the  window  and  she  was  still 
sitting  there  when  dawn  crept  across  the  lake  and  began 
to  lighten  the  room.  Then  she  stretched  herself  beside 
Nancy  Ellen,  who  roused  and  looked  at  her. 

"You  just  coming  to  bed?  "  she  cried  in  wonder. 

"At  least  you  can't  complain  that  I  didn't  think," 
said  Kate,  but  Nancy  Ellen  found  no  comfort  in  what 
she  said,  or  the  way  she  said  it.  In  fact,  she  arose  when 
Kate  did,  feeling  distinctly  sulky.  As  they  returned 
to  their  room  from  breakfast,  Kate  laid  out  her  hat  and 
gloves  and  began  to  get  ready  to  keep  her  appointment. 
Nancy  Ellen  could  endure  the  suspense  no  longer. 

"Kate,"  she  said  in  her  gentlest  tones,  "if  you  have  no 
mercy  on  yourself,  have  some  on  your  children.  You've 
no  right,  positively  no  right,  to  take  such  a  chance  away 
from  them." 

"Chance  for  what?"  asked  Kate  tersely. 

"Education,  travel,  leisure,  every  opportunity  in  the 
world,"  enumerated  Nancy  Ellen. 

Kate  was  handling  her  gloves,  her  forehead  wrinkled, 
her  eyes  narrowed  in  concentration. 

"That  is  one  side  of  it,"  she  said.  "The  other  is  that 
neither  my  children  nor  I  have  in  our  blood,  breeding,  or 
mental  cosmos,  the  background  that  it  takes  to  make  one 
happy  with  money  in  unlimited  quantities.  So  far  as  I'm 
concerned  personally,  I'm  happier  this  minute  as  I  am, 
than  John  Jardine's  money  ever  could  make  me.  I  had 
a  fierce  struggle  with  that  question  long  ago;  since  I  have 
had  nearly  eight  years  of  life  I  love,  that  is  good  for  my 


388  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

soul,  the  struggle  to  leave  it  would  be  greater  now.  Polly 
would  be  happier  and  get  more  from  life  as  the  wife  of  big 
gangling  Henry  Peters,  than  she  would  as  a  millionaire's 
daughter.  She'd  be  very  suitable  in  a  farmhouse  par- 
lour; she'd  be  a  ridiculous  little  figure  at  a  ball.  As  for 
Adam,  he'd  turn  this  down  quick  and  hard." 

"Just  you  try  him!"  cried  Nancy  Ellen. 

"For  one  thing,  he  won't  be  here  at  ten  o'clock,"  said 
Kate;  "and  for  another,  since  it  involves  my  becoming 
the  wife  of  John  Jardine,  it  isn't  for  Adam  to  decide. 
This  decision  is  strictly  my  own.  I  merely  mention  the 
children,  because  if  I  married  him,  it  would  have  an  inevit- 
able influence  on  their  lives,  an  influence  that  I  don't  in  the 
least  covet  either  for  them  or  for  myself.  Nancy  Ellen, 
can't  you  remotely  conceive  of  such  a  thing  as  one  human 
being  in  the  world  who  is  satisfied  that  he  has  his  share,  and 
who  believes  to  the  depths  of  his  soul  that  no  man  should 
be  allowed  to  amass,  and  to  use  for  his  personal  indul- 
gence, the  amount  of  money  that  John  Jardine  does?" 

"Yes,  I  can,"  cried  Nancy  Ellen,  "when  I  see  you,  and 
the  way  you  act!  You  have  chance  after  chance,  but  you 
seem  to  think  that  life  requires  of  you  a  steady  job  of  hold- 
ing your  nose  to  the  grindstone.  It  was  rather  stubby  to 
begin  with,  go  on  and  grind  it  clear  off"  your  face,  if  you  like." 

"All  right,"  said  Kate.  "Then  I'll  tell  you  definitely 
that  I  have  no  particular  desire  to  marry  anybody;  I 
like  my  life  immensely  as  I'm  living  it.  I'm  free,  inde- 
pendent, and  my  children  are  in  the  element  to  which  they 
were  born,  and  where  they  can  live  naturally,  and  spend 


KATE'S  HEAVENLY  TIME  389 

their  lives  helping  in  the  great  work  of  feeding,  clothing, 
and  housing  their  fellow  men.  I've  no  desire  to  leave 
my  job  or  take  them  from  theirs,  to  start  a  lazy,  shiftless 
life  of  self-indulgence.  I  don't  meddle  much  with  the 
Bible,  but  I  have  a  profound  belief  in  it,  and  a  large 
respect  for  it,  as  the  greatest  book  in  the  world,  and  it 
says:  'By  the  sweat  of  his  brow  shall  man  earn  his 
bread,'  or  words  to  that  effect.  I  was  born  a  sweater, 
I  shall  just  go  on  sweating  until  I  die;  I  refuse  to  begin 
perspiring  at  my  time  of  life." 

"You  big  fool!"  cried  Nancy  Ellen. 

"Look  out!  You're  'in  danger  of  Hell  fire,'  when  you 
call  me  that!"  warned  Kate. 

"Fire  away!"  cried  Nancy  Ellen,  with  tears  in  her  eyes 
and  voice.  "When  I  think  what  you've  gone  through " 

Kate  stared  at  her  fixedly.  "What  do  you  know  about 
what  I've  gone  through?"  she  demanded  in  a  cold,  even 
voice.  "Personally,  I  think  you're  not  qualified  to 
mention  that  subject;  you  better  let  it  rest.  Whatever 
it  has  been,  it's  been  of  such  a  nature  that  I  have  come 
out  of  it  knowing  when  I  have  my  share  and  when  I'm 
well  off",  for  me.  If  John  Jardine  wants  to  marry  me,  and 
will  sell  all  he  has,  and  come  and  work  on  the  farm  with 
me,  I'll  consider  marrying  him.  To  leave  my  life  and 
what  I  love  to  go  to  Chicago  with  him,  I  do  not  feel  called 
on,  or  inclined  to7 do.  No,  I'll  not  marry  him,  and  in 
about  fifteen  minutes  I'll  tell  him  so." 

"And  go  on  making  a  mess  of  your  life  such  as  you  did 
for  years,"  said  Nancy  Ellen,  drying  her  red  eyes. 


390  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

"At  least  it  was  my  life,"  said  Kate.  "I  didn't  mess 
things  for  any  one  else." 

"Except  your  children,"  said  Nancy  Ellen. 

"As  you  will,"  said  Kate,  rising.  "I'll  not  marry  John 
Jardine;  and  the  sooner  1  tell  him  so  and  get  it  over,  the 
better.     Good-bye.     I'll  be  back  in  half  an  hour." 

Kate  walked  slowly  to  the  observation  platform, 
where  she  had  been  the  previous  evening  with  John  Jar- 
dine;  and  leaning  on  the  railing,  she  stood  looking  out  over 
the  water,  and  down  the  steep  declivity,  thinking  how 
best  she  could  word  what  she  had  to  say.  She  was  so 
absorbed  she  did  not  hear  steps  behind  her  or  turn  until 
a  sharp  voice  said:  "You  needn't  wait  any  longer. 
He's  not  coming!" 

Kate  turned  and  glanced  at  the  speaker,  and  then 
around  to  make  sure  she  was  the  person  being  addressed. 
She  could  see  no  one  else.  The  woman  was  small,  light 
haired,  her  face  enamelled,  dressed  beyond  all  reason,  and 
in  a  manner  wholly  out  of  place  for  morning  at  a  summer 
resort  in  Michigan. 

"If  you  are  speaking  to  me,  will  you  kindly  tell  me  to 
whom  you  refer,  and  give  me  the  message  you  bring?" 
said  Kate. 

"I  refer  to  Mr.  John  Jardine,  Mrs.  Holt,"  said  the 
little  woman  and  then  Kate  saw  that  she  was  shaking, 
and  gripping  her  hands  for  self-control. 

"Very  well,"  said  Kate.  "It  will  save  me  an  unpleasant 
task  if  he  doesn't  come.  Thank  you,"  and  she  turned 
back  to  the  water. 


KATE'S  HEAVENLY  TIME  391 

"You  certainly  didn't  find  anything  unpleasant  about 
being  with  him  half  last  night,"  said  the  little  woman. 

Kate  turned  again,  and  looked  narrowly  at  the  speaker. 
Then  she  laughed  heartily.  "Well  done,  Jennie!"  she 
cried.  "Why,  you  are  such  a  fashionable  lady,  such 
a  Dolly  Varden,  I  never  saw  who  you  were.  How  do 
you  do?  Won't  you  sit  down  and  have  a  chat?  It's 
just  dawning  on  me  that  very  possibly,  from  your  dress 
and  manner,  I  should  have  called  you  Mrs.  Jardine." 

"Didn't  he  tell  you?"  cried  Jennie. 

"He  did  not,"  said  Kate.  "Your  name  was  not 
mentioned.    He  said  no  word  about  being  married." 

"We  have  been  married  since  a  few  weeks  after  Mrs. 
Jardine  died.  I  taught  him  the  things  you  turned  him 
down  for  not  knowing;  I  have  studied  him,  and  waited 
on  him,  and  borne  his  children,  and  this  is  my  reward. 
What  are  you  going  to  do?" 

"Go  back  to  the  hotel,  when  I  finish  with  this  view," 
said  Kate.  "I  find  it  almost  as  attractive  by  day  as  it 
was  by  night." 

"Brazen!"  cried  Mrs.  Jardine. 

"Choose  your  words  carefully,"  said  Kate.  "I  was 
here  first;  since  you  have  delivered  your  message,  suppose 
you  go  and  leave  me  to  my  view." 

"Not  till  I  get  ready,"  said  Mrs.  Jardine.  "Perhaps  it 
will  help  you  to  know  that  I  was  not  twenty  feet  from  you  at 
any  time  last  night;  and  that  I  stood  where  I  could  have 
touched  you,  while'my  husband  made  love  to  you  for  hours." 

"So?"  said  Kate.     "I'm  not  at  all  surprised.     That's 


392  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

exactly  what  I  should  have  expected  of  you.  But  doesn't 
it  clarify  the  situation  any,  at  least  for  me,  when  I  tell 
you  that  Mr.  Jardine  gave  me  no  faintest  hint  that  he 
was  married?  If  you  heard  all  we  said,  you  surely  re- 
member that  you  were  not  mentioned?" 

Mrs.  Jardine  sat  down  suddenly  and  gripped  her  little 
hands.  Kate  studied  her  intently.  She  wondered  what 
she  would  look  like  when  her  hair  was  being  washed;  at 
this  thought  she  smiled  broadly.  That  made  the  other 
woman  frantic. 

"You  can  well  laugh  at  me,"  she  said.  "I  made  the 
banner  fool  of  the  ages  of  myself  when  I  schemed  to 
marry  him.  I  knew  he  loved  you.  He  told  me  so.  He 
told  me,  just  as  he  told  you  last  night,  that  he  never  had 
loved  any  other  woman  and  he  never  would.  I  thought 
he  didn't  know  himself  as  I  knew  him.  He  was  so 
grand  to  his  mother,  I  thought  if  I  taught  him,  and  helped 
him  back  to  self-respect,  and  gave  him  children,  he  must, 
and  would  love  me.  Well,  I  was  mistaken.  He  does  not, 
and  never  will.  Every  day  he  thinks  of  you;  not  a  night 
but  he  speaks  your  name.  He  thinks  all  things  can  be 
done  with  money " 

"So  do  you,  Jennie,"  interrupted  Kate.  "Well,  I'll 
show  you  that  this  can't  /" 

"Didn't  you  hear  him  exulting  because  you  are  now 
free?"  cried  Jennie.  "He  thinks  he  will  give  me  a  home, 
the  children,  a  big  income;  then  secure  his  freedom  and 
marry  you." 

"Oh,  don't  talk  such  rot!"  cried  Kate.     "John  Jardine 


KATE'S  HEAVENLY  TIME  393 

thinks  no  such  thing.  He  wouldn't  insult  me  by  thinking 
I  thought  such  a  thing.  That  thought  belongs  where  it 
sprang  from,  right  in  your  little  cramped,  blonde  brain, 
ennie. 

"You  wouldn't?  Are  you  sure  you  wouldn't?"  cried 
Jennie,  leaning  forward  with  hands  clutched  closely. 

"I  should  say  not!"  said  Kate.  "The  last  thing  on 
earth  I  want  is  some  other  woman's  husband.  Now  look 
here,  Jennie,  I'll  tell  you  the  plain  truth.  I  thought  last 
night  that  John  Jardine  was  as  free  as  I  was;  or  I  shouldn't 
have  been  here  with  him.  I  thought  he  was  asking  me 
again  to  marry  him,  and  I  was  not  asleep  last  night, 
thinking  it  over.  I  came  here  to  tell  him  that  I  would 
not.     Does  that  satisfy  you?" 

"Satisfy?"  cried  Jennie.  "I  hope  no  other  woman 
lives  in  the  kind  of  Hell  I  do." 

"It's  always  the  way,"  said  Kate,  "when  people  will 
insist  on  getting  out  of  their  class.  You  would  have 
gotten  ten  times  more  from  life  as  the  wife  of  a  village 
merchant,  or  a  farmer,  than  you  have  as  the  wife  of  a  rich 
man.  Since  you're  married  to  him,  and  there  are  children, 
there's  nothing  for  you  to  do  but  finish  your  job  as  best 
you  can.  Rest  your  head  easy  about  me.  I  wouldn't 
touch  John  Jardine  married  to  you;  I  wouldn't  touch 
him  with  a  ten-foot  pole,  divorced  from  you.  Get  that 
clear  in  your  head,  and  do  please  go!" 

Kate  turned  again  to  the  water,  but  when  she  was  sure 
Jennie  was  far  away  she  sat  down  suddenly  and  asked 
of  the  lake:    "Well,  wouldn't  that  freeze  you?" 


CHAPTER  XXIV 
Polly  Tries  Her  Wings 

FINALLY  Kate  wandered  back  to  the  hotel  and 
went  to  their  room  to  learn  if  Nancy  Ellen  was 
there.  She  was  and  seemed  very  much  per- 
turbed. The  first  thing  she  did  was  to  hand  Kate  a  big 
white  envelope,  which  she  opened  and  found  to  be  a  few 
lines  from  John  Jardine,  explaining  that  he  had  been  un- 
expectedly called  away  on  some  very  important  business. 
He  reiterated  his  delight  in  having  seen  her,  and  hoped  for 
the  same  pleasure  at  no  very  distant  date.  Kate  read  it 
and  tossed  it  on  the  dresser.  As  she  did  so,  she  saw  a 
telegram,  lying  opened  among  Nancy  Ellen's  toilet 
articles,  and  thought  with  pleasure  that  Robert  was 
coming.  She  glanced  at  her  sister  for  confirmation,  and 
saw  that  she  was  staring  from  the  window  as  if  she  were 
in  doubt  about  something.  Kate  thought  probably  she 
was  still  upset  about  John  Jardine,  and  that  might  as 
well  be  gotten  over,  so  she  said:  "That  note  was 
not  delivered  promptly.  It  is  from  John  Jardine.  I 
should  have  had  it  before  I  left.  He  was  called  away  on 
important  business  and  wrote  it  to  let  me  know  he  would 
not  be  able  to  keep  his  appointment;  but  without  his 
knowledge,  he  had  a  representative  on  the  spot." 

394 


POLLY  TRIES  HER  WINGS  395 

Nancy  Ellen  seemed  interested  so  Kate  proceeded: 
"You  couldn't  guess  in  a  thousand  years.  I'll  have  to 
tell  you  spang!     It  was  his  wife." 

"His  wife!"  cried  Nancy  Ellen.     "But  you  said " 

"So  I  did,"  said  Kate.  "And  so  he  did.  Since  the 
wife  loomed  on  the  horizon,  I  remembered  that  he  said 
no  word  to  me  of  marriage;  he  merely  said  he  always  had 
loved  me  and  always  would " 

"  Merely  ? "  scoffed  Nancy  Ellen.     "  Merely ! " 

"Just  'merely,'"  said  Kate.  "He  didn't  lay  a  finger 
on  me;  he  didn't  ask  me  to  marry  him;  he  just  merely 
met  me  after  a  long  separation,  and  told  me  that  he  still 
loved  me." 

"The  brute!"  said  Nancy  Ellen.  "He  should  be 
killed." 

"I  can't  see  it,"  said  Kate.  "He  did  nothing  un- 
gentlemanly.  If  we  jumped  to  wrong  conclusions  that 
was  not  his  fault.  I  doubt  if  he  remembered  or  thought 
at  all  of  his  marriage.  It  wouldn't  be  much  to  forget. 
I  am  fresh  from  an  interview  with  his  wife.  She's  an  old 
acquaintance  of  mine.  I  once  secured  her  for  his  mother's 
maid.     You've  heard  me  speak  of  her." 

"Impossible!  John  Jardine  would  not  do  that!"  cried 
Nancy  Ellen. 

"There's  a  family  to  prove  it,"  said  Kate.  "Jennie  ad- 
mits that  she  studied  him,  taught  him,  made  herself 
indispensable  to  him,  and  a  few  weeks  after  his  mother's 
passing,  married  him,  after  he  had  told  her  he  did  not 
love  her  and  never  could.    I  feel  sorry  for  him." 


396  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

"Sure!  Poor  defrauded  creature!"  said  Nancy  Ellen. 
"What  about  her?" 

"Nothing,  so  far  as  I  can  see,"  said  Kate.  "By  her 
own  account  she  was  responsible.  She  should  have  kept 
in  her  own  class." 

"All  right.  That  settles  Jennie!"  said  Nancy  Ellen. 
"I  saw  you  noticed  the  telegram  from  Robert — now  go 
on  and  settle  me!" 

"Is  he  coming?"  asked  Kate. 

"No,  he's  not  coming,"  said  Nancy  Ellen. 

"Has  he  eloped  with  the  widder?"  Kate  asked  flip- 
pantly. 

"He  merely  telegraphs  that  he  thinks  it  would  be  wise 
for  us  to  come  home  on  the  first  train,"  said  Nancy 
Ellen.  "For  all  I  can  make  of  that,  the  elopement 
might  quite  as  well  be  in  your  family  as  mine." 

Kate  held  out  her  hand,  Nancy  Ellen  laid  the  message 
in  it.  Kate  studied  it  carefully;  then  she  raised  steady 
eyes  to  her  sister's  face. 

"Do  you  know  what  I  should  do  about  this?"  she 
asked. 

"Catch  the  first  train,  of  course,"  she  said. 

"Far  be  it  from  me,"  said  Kate.  "I  should  at  once 
telegraph  him  that  his  message  was  not  clear,  to  kindly 
particularize.  We've  only  got  settled.  We're  having  a 
fine  time;  especially  right  now.  Why  should  we  pack  up 
and  go  home?  I  can't  think  of  any  possibility  that  could 
arise  that  would  make  it  necessary  for  him  to  send  for  us. 
Can  you?" 


POLLY  TRIES  HER  WINGS  397 

"I  can  think  of  two  things,"  said  Nancy  Ellen.  "I 
can  think  of  a  very  pretty,  confiding,  little  cat  of  a  woman, 
who  is  desperately  infatuated  with  my  husband;  and  I  can 
think  of  two  children  fathered  by  George  Holt,  who 
might  possibly,  just  possibly,  have  enough  of  his  blood 
in  their  veins  to  be  like  him,  given  opportunity.  Alone 
for  a  week,  there  is  barely  a  faint  possibility  that  you 
might  be  needed.  Alone  for  the  same  week,  there  is  the 
faintest  possibility  that  Robert  is  in  a  situation  where 
I  could  help  him." 

Kate  drew  a  deep  breath. 

"Isn't  life  the  most  amusing  thing?"  she  asked.  "I 
had  almost  forgotten  my  wings.  I  guess  we'd  better 
take  them,  and  fly  straight  home." 

She  arose  and  called  the  office  to  learn  about  trains, 
and  then  began  packing  her  trunk.  As  she  folded  her 
dresses  and  stuffed  them  in  rather  carelessly  she  said: 
"I  don't  know  why  I  got  it  into  my  head  that  I  could  go 
away  and  have  a  few  days  of  a  good  time  without  some- 
thing happening  at  home." 

"  But  you  are  not  sure  anything  has  happened  at  home. 
This  call  may  be  for  me,"  said  Nancy  Ellen. 

"It  may,  but  this  is  July,"  said  Kate.  "I've  been 
thinking  hard  and  fast.  It's  probable  I  can  put  my  finger 
on  the  spot." 

Nancy  Ellen  paused  and  standing  erect  she  looked 
questioningly  at  Kate. 

"The  weak  link  in  my  chain  at  the  present  minute  is 
Polly,"  said    Kate.    "I   didn't   pay   much   attention  at 


398  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

the  time,  because  there  wasn't  enough  of  it  really  to 
attract  attention;  but  since  I  think,  I  can  recall  signs 
of  growing  discontent  in  Polly,  lately.  She  fussed 
about  the  work,  and  resented  being  left  in  the  house 
while  I  went  to  the  fields,  and  she  had  begun  looking 
up  the  road  to  Peters'  so  much  that  her  head  was 
slightly  turned  toward  the  north  most  of  the  time. 
With  me  away " 

"What  do  you  think?"  demanded  Nancy  Ellen. 

"Think  very  likely  she  has  decided  that  she'll  sacrifice 
her  chance  for  more  schooling  and  to  teach,  for  the  sake 
of  marrying  a  big,  green  country  boy  named  Hank 
Peters,"  said  Kate. 

"Thereby  keeping  in  her  own  class,"  suggested  Nancy 
Ellen. 

Kate  laughed  shortly.  "Exactly!"  she  said.  "I 
didn't  aspire  to  anything  different  for  her  from  what  she 
has  had;  but  I  wanted  her  to  have  more  education,  and 
wait  until  she  was  older.  Marriage  is  too  hard  work 
for  a  girl  to  begin  at  less  than  eighteen.  If  it  is  Polly,  and 
she  has  gone  away  with  Hank  Peters,  they've  no  place 
to  go  but  his  home;  and  if  ever  she  thought  I  worked  her 
too  hard,  she'll  find  out  she  has  played  most  of  her  life, 
when  she  begins  taking  orders  from  Mrs.  Amanda  Peters. 
You  know  her!  She  never  can  keep  a  girl  more  than  a 
week,  and  she's  always  wanting  one.  If  Polly  has  tackled 
that  job,  God  help  her." 

"Cheer  up!  We're  in  that  delightful  state  of  un- 
certainty where  Polly  may  be  blacking  the  cook  stove, 


POLLY  TRIES  HER  WINGS  399 

like  a  dutiful  daughter;  while  Robert  has  decided  that 
he'd  like  a  divorce,"  said  Nancy  Ellen. 

"Nancy  Ellen,  there's  nothing  in  that,  so  far  as  Robert 
is  concerned.  He  told  me  so  the  evening  we  came  away," 
said  Kate. 

Nancy  Ellen  banged  down  a  trunk  lid  and  said:  "Well, 
I  am  getting  to  the  place  where  I  don't  much  care  whether 
there  is  or  there  is  not." 

"What  a  whopper!"  laughed  Kate.  "But  cheer  up. 
This  is  my  trouble.  I  feel  it  in  my  bones.  Wish  I  knew 
for  sure.  If  she's  eloped,  and  it's  all  over  with,  we  might 
as  well  stay  and  finish  our  visit.  If  she's  married,  I 
can't  unmarry  her,  and  I  wouldn't  if  I  could." 

"How  are  you  going  to  apply  your  philosophy  to  your- 
self?" asked  Nancy  Ellen. 

"By  letting  time  and  Polly  take  their  course,"  said 
Kate.  "This  is  a  place  where  parents  are  of  no  account 
whatever.  They  stand  back  until  it's  time  to  clean  up 
the  wreck,  and  then  they  get  theirs — usually  theirs, 
and  several  of  someone's  else,  in  the  bargain." 

As  the  train  stopped  at  Hartley,  Kate  sat  where 
she  could  see  Robert  on  the  platform.  It  was  only 
a  fleeting  glance,  but  she  thought  she  had  never  seen 
him  look  so  wholesome,  so  vital,  so  much  a  man  to  be 
desired.    " 

"No  wonder  a  woman  lacking  in  fine  scruples  would 
covet  him,"  thought  Kate.  To  Nancy  Ellen  she  said 
hastily:  "The  trouble's  mine.  Robert's  on  the  plat- 
form." 


4oo  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

"Where?"  demanded  Nancy  Ellen,  peering  from  the 
window. 

Kate  smiled  as  she  walked  from  the  car  and  con- 
fronted Robert. 

"Get  it  over  quickly,"  she  said.     "It's  Polly?" 

He  nodded. 

"Did  she  remember  to  call  on  the  Squire?"  she  asked. 

"Oh,  yes,"  said  Robert.  "It  was  at  Peters',  and  they 
had  the  whole  neighbourhood  in." 

Kate  swayed  slightly,  then  lifted  her  head,  her  eyes 
blazing.  She  had  come,  feeling  not  altogether  guiltless, 
and  quite  prepared  to  overlook  a  youthful  elopement. 
The  insult  of  having  her  only  daughter  given  a  wedding 
at  the  home  of  the  groom,  about  which  the  whole  neigh- 
bourhood would  be  laughing  at  her,  was  a  different 
matter.  Slowly  the  high  colour  faded  from  Kate's 
face,  as  she  stepped  back.  "Excuse  me,  Nancy  Ellen," 
she  said.  "I  didn't  mean  to  deprive  you  of  the  chance 
of  even  speaking  to  Robert.  I  knew  this  was  for  me;  I 
was  over-anxious  to  learn  what  choice  morsel  life  had  in 
store  for  me  now.  It's  one  that  will  be  bitter  on  my 
tongue  to  the  day  of  my  death." 

"Oh,  Kate,  I  am  so  sorry  that  if  this  had  to  happen, 
it  happened  in  just  that  way,"  said  Nancy  Ellen,  "but 
don't  mind.     They're  only  foolish  kids!" 

"Who?  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Peters,  and  the  neighbours,  who 
attended  the  wedding!  Foolish  kids?  Oh,  no!"  said 
Kate.     "Where's  Adam?" 

"I  told  him  I'd  bring  you  out,"  said  Robert. 


POLLY  TRIES  HER  WINGS  401 

"Why  didn't  he  send  for  you,  or  do  something?" 
demanded  Kate. 

"I'm  afraid  the  facts  are  that  Polly  lied  to  him,"  said 
Robert.  "She  told  him  that  Peters  were  having  a  party, 
and  Mrs.  Peters  wanted  her  to  come  early  and  help  her 
with  the  supper.  They  had  the  Magistrate  out  from 
town  and  had  the  ceremony  an  hour  before  Adam  got  there. 
When  he  arrived,  and  found  out  what  had  happened,  he 
told  Polly  and  the  Peters  family  exactly  his  opinion  of 
them;  and  then  he  went  home  and  turned  on  all  the 
lights,  and  sat  where  he  could  be  seen  on  the  porch  all 
evening,  as  a  protest  in  evidence  of  his  disapproval,  I 
take  it." 

Slowly  the  colour  began  to  creep  back  into  Kate's 
face.    "The  good  boy!"  she  said,  in  commendation. 

"He  called  me  at  once,  and  we  talked  it  over  and  I 
sent  you  the  telegram;  but  as  he  said,  it  was  done;  there 
was  no  use  trying  to  undo  it.  One  thing  will  be  a  comfort 
to  you.  All  of  your  family,  and  almost  all  of  your  friends, 
left  as  soon  as  Adam  spoke  his  piece,  and  they  found  it 
was  a  wedding  and  not  a  party  to  which  they'd  been 
invited.    It  was  a  shabby  trick  of  Peters." 

Kate  assented.  "It  was  because  I  felt  instinctively 
that  Mrs.  Peters  had  it  in  her  to  do  tricks  like  that,  that 
I  never  would  have  anything  to  do  with  her,"  said  Kate, 
"more  than  to  be  passing  civil.  This  is  how  she  gets  her 
revenge,  and  her  hired  girl,  for  no  wages,  I'll  be  bound! 
It's  a  shabby  trick.  I'm  glad  Adam  saved  me  the  trouble 
of  telling  her  so." 


402  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

Robert  took  Nancy  Ellen  home,  and  then  drove  to 
Bates  Corners  with  Kate. 

"In  a  few  days  now  I  hope  we  can  see  each  other 
oftener,"  he  said,  on  the  way.  "I  got  a  car  yesterday, 
and  it  doesn't  seem  so  complicated.  Any  intelligent 
person  can  learn  to  drive  in  a  short  time.  I  like  it  so 
much,  and  I  knew  I'd  have  such  constant  use  for  it 
that — now  this  is  a  secret — I  ordered  another  for  Nancy 
Ellen,  so  she  can  drive  about  town,  and  run  out  here  as 
she  chooses.     Will  she  be  pleased?" 

"She'll  be  overjoyed!  That  was  dear  of  you,  Robert. 
Only  one  thing  in  the  world  would  please  her  more," 
said  Kate. 

"What's  that?"  asked  Robert. 
Kate  looked  him  in  the  eye,  and  smiled. 
"Oh,"  he  said.     "But  there  is  nothing  in  it!" 
"Except    talk,    that    worries    and    humiliates    Nancy 
Ellen,"  said  Kate. 

"Kate,"  he  said  suddenly,  "if  you  were  in  my  shoes, 
what  would  you  do?" 

"The  next  time  I  got  a  phone  call,  or  a  note  from  Mrs. 
Southey,  and  she  was  having  one  of  those  terrible  head- 
aches, I  should  say:  'I'm  dreadfully  sorry,  Mrs.  Southey, 
but  a  breath  of  talk  that  might  be  unpleasant  for 
you,  and  for  my  wife,  has  come  to  my  ear,  so  I  know 
you'll  think  it  wiser  to  call  Dr.  Mills,  who  can  serve  you 
better  than  I.  In  a  great  rush  this  afternoon.  Good-bye!' 
That  is  what  I  should  do,  Robert,  and  I  should  do  it 
quickly,  and  emphatically.    Then  I  should  interest  Nancy 


POLLY  TRIES  HER  WINGS  403 

Ellen  in  her  car  for  a  time,  and  then  I  should  keep  my 
eyes  open,  and  the  first  time  I  found  in  my  practice  a  sound 
baby  with  a  clean  bill  of  health,  and  no  encumbrances, 
I  should  have  it  dressed  attractively,  and  bestow  it  on 
Nancy  Ellen  as  casually  as  I  did  the  car.  And  in  the 
meantime,  love  her  plenty,  Robert.  You  can  never  know 
how  she  feels  about  this;  and  it's  in  no  way  her  fault. 
She  couldn't  possibly  have  known;  while  you  would  have 
married  her  just  the  same  if  you  had  known.  Isn't 
that  so?" 

"It's  quite  so.  Kate,  I  think  your  head  is  level,  and 
I'll  follow  your  advice  to  the  letter.  Now  you  have 
'healed  my  lame  leg,'  as  the  dog  said  in  McGuffey's 
Third,  what  can  I  do  for  this  poor  dog?" 

"Nothing,"  said  Kate.  "I've  got  to  hold  still,  and 
take  it.  Life  will  do  the  doing.  I  don't  want  to  croak, 
but  remember  my  word,  it  will  do  plenty." 

"We'll  come  often,"  he  said  as  he  turned  to  go  back. 

Kate  slowly  walked  up  the  path,  dreading  to  meet 
Adam.  He  evidently  had  been  watching  for  her,  for  he 
came  around  the  corner  of  the  house,  took  fyer  arm,  and 
they  walked  up  the  steps  and  into  the  living  room  together. 
She  looked  at  him;  he  looked  at  her.  At  last  he  said: 
"I'm  afraid  that  a  good  deal  of  this  is  my  fault,  Mother." 

"How  so?"  asked  Kate,  tersely. 

"I  guess  I  betrayed  your  trust  in  me,"  said  Adam, 
heavily.  "Of  course  I  did  all  my  work  and  attended  to 
things;  but  in  the  evening  after  work  was  over,  the  very 
first  evening  on  the  way  home  we  stopped  to  talk  to 


4o4  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

Henry  at  the  gate,  and  he  got  in  and  came  on  down. 
We  could  see  Milly  at  their  gate,  and  I  wanted  her,  I 
wanted  her  so  much,  Mother;  and  it  was  going  to  be 
lonesome,  so  all  of  us  went  on  there,  and  she  came  up  here 
and  we  sat  on  the  porch,  and  then  I  took  her  home  and 
that  left  Henry  and  Polly  together.  The  next  night 
Henry  took  us  to  town  for  a  treat,  and  we  were  all 
together,  and  the  next  night  Milly  asked  us  all  there, 
and  so  it  went.  It  was  all  as  open  and  innocent  as  it 
could  be;  only  Henry  and  Polly  were  in  awful  earnest 
and  she  was  bound  she  wouldn't  be  sent  to  town  to 
school " 

"Why  didn't  she  tell  me  so?  She  never  objected  a 
word,  to  me,"  said  Kate. 

"Well,  Mother,  you  are  so  big,  and  Polly  was  so  little, 
and  she  was  used  to  minding " 

"Yes,  this  looks  like  it,"  said  Kate.     "Well,  go  on!" 

"That's  all,"  said  Adam.  "It  was  only  that  instead  of 
staying  at  home  and  attending  to  our  own  affairs  we  were 
somewhere  every  night,  or  Milly  and  Henry  were  here. 
That  is  where  I  was  to  blame.  I'm  afraid  you'll  never  for- 
give me,  Mother;  but  I  didn't  take  good  care  of  Sister.  I 
left  her  to  Henry  Peters,  while  I  tried  to  see  how  nice  I  could 
be  to  Milly.  I  didn't  know  what  Polly  and  Henry  were 
planning;  honest,  I  didn't,  Mother,  I  would  have  told 
Uncle  Robert  and  sent  for  you  if  I  had.  I  thought  when 
I  went  there  it  was  to  be  our  little  crowd  like  it  was  at 
York's.  I  was  furious  when  I  found  they  were  married. 
I  told  Mr   and  Mrs.  Peters  what  they  were,  right  before 


POLLY  TRIES  HER  WINGS  405 

the  company,  and  then  I  came  straight  home  and  all  the 
family,  and  York's,  and  most  of  the  others,  came  straight 
away.  Only  a  few  stayed  to  the  supper.  I  was  so  angry 
with  Polly  I  just  pushed  her  away,  and  didn't  even  say 
good-night  to  her.  The  little  silly  fool!  Mother,  if 
she  had  told  you,  you  would  have  let  her  stay  at  home 
this  winter  and  got  her  clothing,  and  let  her  be  married 
here,  when  she  was  old  enough,  wouldn't  you?" 

"Certainly!"  said  Kate.  "All  the  world  knows  that. 
Bates  all  marry;  and  they  all  marry  young.  Don't  blame 
yourself,  Adam.  If  Polly  had  it  in  her  system  to  do  this, 
and  she  did,  or  she  wouldn't  have  done  it,  the  thing  would 
have  happened  when  I  was  here,  and  right  under  my  nose. 
It  was  a  scheme  all  planned  and  ready  before  I  left.  I 
know  that  now.  Let  it  go!  There's  nothing  we  can  do, 
until  things  begin  to  go  wrong,  as  they  always  do  in  this 
kind  of  wedding;  then  we  shall  get  our  call.  In  the 
meantime,  you  mustn't  push  your  sister  away.  She 
may  need  you  sooner  than  you'd  think;  and  will  you  just 
please  have  enough  confidence  in  my  common  sense 
and  love  for  you,  to  come  to  me,  first,  when  you  feel 
that  there's  a  girl  who  is  indispensable  to  your  future, 
Adam?" 

"Yes,  I  will,"  said  Adam.  "And  it  won't  be  long,  and 
the  girl  will  be  Milly  York." 

"All  right,"  said  Kate,  gravely,  "whenever  the  time 
comes,  let  me  know  about  it.  Now  see  if  you  can  find  me 
something  to  eat  till  I  lay  off  my  hat  and  wash.  It  was  a 
long,  hot  ride,  and  I'm  tired.    Since  there's  nothing  I  can 


4o6  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

do,  I  wish  I  had  stayed  where  I  was.  No,  I  don't,  either! 
I  see  joy  coming  over  the  hill  for  Nancy  Ellen." 

"Why  is  joy  coming  to  Nancy  Ellen?"  asked  the  boy, 
pausing  an  instant  before  he  started  to  the  kitchen. 

"Oh,  because  she's  had  such  a  very  rough,  uncomfort- 
able time  with  life,"  said  Kate,  "that  in  the  very  nature 
of  things  joy  should  come  her  way." 

The  boy  stood  mystified  until  the  expression  on  his 
face  so  amused  Kate  that  she  began  laughing,  then  he 
understood. 

"That's  why  it's  coming,"  said  Kate;  "and,  here's  how 
it's  coming.  She  is  going  to  get  rid  of  a  bothersome  worry 
that's  troubling  her  head — and  she's  going  to  have  a  very 
splendid  gift,  but  it's  a  deep  secret." 

"Then  you'll  have  to  whisper  it,"  said  Adam,  going  to 
her  and  holding  a  convenient  ear.  Kate  rested  her  hands 
on  his  shoulder  a  minute,  as  she  leaned  on  him,  her  face 
buried  in  his  crisp  black  hair.  Then  she  whispered  the 
secret. 

"Crickey,  isn't  that  grand!"  cried  the  boy,  backing 
away  to  stare  at  her. 

"Yes,  it  is  so  ^rand  I'm  going  to  try  it  ourselves," 
said  Kate.  "We've  a  pretty  snug  balance  in  the  bank, 
and  I  think  it  would  be  great  fun  evenings  or  when  we 
want  to  go  to  town  in  a  hurry  and  the  horses  are  tired." 

Adam  was  slowly  moving  toward  the  kitchen,  his  face 
more  of  a  study  than  before. 

"Mother,"  he  said  as  he  reached  the  door,  "I  be 
hanged  if  I  know  how  to  take  you!     I  thought  you'd  just 


POLLY  TRIES  HER  WINGS  407 

raise  Cain  over  what  Polly  has  done;  but  you  act  so 
sane  and  sensible;  someway  it  doesn't  seem  so  bad  as  it 
did,  and  I  feel  more  sorry  for  Polly  than  like  going  back 
on  her.     And  are  you  truly  in  earnest  about  a  car?" 

"  I'm  going  to  think  very  seriously  about  it  this  winter, 
and  I  feel  almost  sure  it  will  come  true  by  early  spring," 
said  Kate.  "But  who  said  anything  about  'going  back 
on  Polly?'" 

"Oh,  Mrs.  York  and  all  the  neighbours  said  that  you'd 
never  forgive  her,  and  that  she'd  never  darken  your  door 
again,  and  things  like  that  until  I  was  almost  crazy,"  an- 
swered Adam. 

Kate  smiled  grimly.  "Adam,"  she  said,  "I  had  seven 
years  of  that  'darken  your  door'  business,  myself.  It's 
a  mighty  cold,  hard  proposition.  It's  a  wonder  the  neigh- 
bours didn't  remember  that.  Maybe  they  did,  and 
thought  I  was  so  much  of  a  Bates  leopard  that  I  couldn't 
change  my  spots.  If  they  are  watching  me,  they  will 
find  that  I  am  not  spotted;  I'm  sorry  and  humiliated  over 
what  Polly  has  done;  but  I'm  not  going  to  gnash  my 
teeth,  and  tear  my  hair,  and  wail  in  public,  or  in  private. 
I'm  trying  to  keep  my  real  mean  spot  so  deep  it  can't  be 
seen.  If  ever  I  get  my  chance,  Adam,  you  watch  me 
pay  back  Mrs.  Peters.  That  is  the  size  and  location  of 
my  spot;  but  it's  far  deeper  than  my  skin.  Now  go  on 
and  find  me  food,  man,  food!" 

Adam  sat  close  while  Kate  ate  her  supper,  then  he 
helped  her  unpack  her  trunk  and  hang  away  her  dresses, 
and  then  they  sat  on  the  porch  talking  for  a  long  time. 


408  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

When  at  last  they  arose  to  go  to  bed  Kate  said :  "Adam, 
about  Polly:  first  time  you  see  her,  if  she  asks,  tell  her 
she  left  home  of  her  own  free  will  and  accord,  and  in 
her  own  way,  which,  by  the  way,  happens  to  be  a  Holt 
way;  but  you  needn't  mention  that.  I  think  by  this 
time  she  has  learned  or  soon  she  will  learn  that;  and 
whenever  she  wants  to  come  back  and  face  me,  to  come 
right  ahead.  I  can  stand  it  if  she  can.  Can  you  get  that 
straight?" 

Adam  said  he  could.  He  got  that  straight  and  so  much 
else  that  by  the  time  he  finished,  Polly  realized  that  both 
Jie  and  her  mother  had  left  her  in  the  house  to  try  to 
skidd  her;  that  if  she  had  told  what  she  wanted  in  a 
straightforward  manner  she  might  have  had  a  wed- 
ding outfit  prepared  and  been  married  from  her  home 
at  a  proper  time  and  in  a  proper  way,  and  without  putting 
her  mother  to  shame  before  the  community.  Polly  was 
very  much  ashamed  of  herself  by  the  time  Adam  finished. 
She  could  not  find  it  in  her  heart  to  blame  Henry;  she 
knew  he  was  no  more  to  blame  than  she  was;  but  she  did 
store  up  a  grievance  against  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Peters. 
They  were  older  and  had  had  experience  with  the  world; 
they  might  have  told  Polly  what  she  should  do  instead 
of  having  done  everything  in  their  power  to  make  her  do 
what  she  had  done,  bribing,  coaxing,  urging,  all  in  the 
direction  of  her  inclinations. 

At  heart  Polly  was  big  enough  to  admit  that  she  had  fol- 
lowed her  inclinations  without  thinking  at  all  what  the  re- 
sult would  be.     Adam  never  would  have  done  what  she 


POLLY  TRIES  HER  WINGS  409 

had.  Adam  would  have  thought  of  his  mother  and  his 
name  and  his  honour.  Poor  little  Polly  had  to  admit  that 
honour  with  her  had  always  been  a  matter  of,  "Now  re- 
member," "Be  careful,"  and  like  caution  on  the  lips  of  her 
mother. 

The  more  Polly  thought,  the  worse  she  felt.  The 
worse  she  felt,  the  more  the  whole  Peters  family  tried  to 
comfort  her.  She  was  violently  homesick  in  a  few 
days;  but  Adam  had  said  she  was  to  come  when  she 
"could  face  her  mother,"  and  Polly  suddenly  found  that 
she  would  rather  undertake  to  run  ten  miles  than  to  face 
her  mother,  so  she  began  a  process  of  hiding  from  her.  If 
she  sat  on  the  porch,  and  saw  her  mother  coming,  she  ran 
in  the  house.  She  would  go  to  no  public  place  where  she 
might  meet  her.  For  a  few  weeks  she  lived  a  life  of 
working  for  Mrs.  Peters  from  dawn  to  dark,  under  the 
stimulus  of  what  a  sweet  girl  she  was,  how  splendidly  she 
did  things,  how  fortunate  Henry  was,  interspersed  with 
continual  kissing,  patting,  and  petting,  all  very  new  and 
unusual  to  Polly.  By  that  time  she  was  so  very  ill,  she 
could  not  lift  her  head  from  the  pillow  half  the  day,  but 
it  was  to  the  credit  of  the  badly  disappointed  Peters 
family  that  they  kept  up  the  petting.  When  Polly  grew 
better,  she  had  no  desire  to  go  anywhere;  she  worked  to 
make  up  for  the  trouble  she  had  been  during  her  illness, 
to  sew  every  spare  moment,  and  to  do  her  full  share  of  the 
day's  work  in  the  house  of  an  excessively  nice  woman, 
whose  work  never  was  done,  and  most  hopeless  thing 
of   all,  never   would    be.     Mrs.   Peters'   head   was  full 


4io  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

of  things  that  she  meant  to  do  three  years  in  the 
future.  Every  night  found  Polly  so  tired  she  staggered 
to  bed  early  as  possible;  every  morning  found  her  con- 
fronting the  same  round,  which  from  the  nature  of  her 
condition  every  morning  was  more  difficult  for  her. 

Kate  and  Adam  followed  their  usual  routine  with  only 
the  alterations  required  by  the  absence  of  Polly.  Kate 
now  prepared  breakfast  while  Adam  did  the  feeding  and 
milking;  washed  the  dishes  and  made  the  beds  while 
he  hitched  up;  then  went  to  the  field  with  him.  On 
rainy  days  he  swept  and  she  dusted;  always  they  talked 
over  and  planned  everything  they  did,  in  the  house  or 
afield;  always  they  schemed,  contrived,  economized,  and 
worked  to  attain  the  shortest,  easiest  end  to  any  result 
they  strove  for.  They  were  growing  in  physical  force, 
they  were  efficient,  they  attended  their  own  affairs 
strictly.  Their  work  was  always  done  on  time,  their 
place  in  order,  their  deposits  at  the  bank  frequent.  As 
the  cold  days  came  they  missed  Polly,  but  scarcely  ever 
mentioned  her.  They  had  more  books  and  read  and 
studied  together,  while  every  few  evenings  Adam  picked 
up  his  hat  and  disappeared,  but  soon  he  and  Milly  came 
in  together.  Then  they  all  read,  popped  corn,  made 
taffy,  knitted,  often  Kate  was  called  away  by  some 
sewing  or  upstairs  work  she  wanted  to  do,  so  that  the 
youngsters  had  plenty  of  time  alone  to  revel  in  tne  wonder 
of  life's  greatest  secret. 

To  Kate's  ears  came  the  word  that  Polly  would  be  a 
mother  in  the  spring,  that  the  Peters  family  were  de- 


POLLY  TRIES  HER  WINGS  411 

lighted  and  anxious  for  the  child  to  be  a  girl,  as  they 
found  six  males  sufficient  for  one  family.  Polly  was 
looking  well,  feeling  fine,  was  a  famous  little  worker,  and 
seldom  sat  on  a  chair  because  some  member  of  the  Peters 
family  usually  held  her. 

"I  should  think  she  would  get  sick  of  all  that  mushing,'* 
said  Adam  when  he  repeated  these  things. 

"She's  not  like  us,"  said  Kate.  "She'll  take  all  she 
can  get,  and  call  for  more.  She's  a  long  time  coming;  but 
I'm  glad  she's  well  and  happy." 

'"Buncombe!"  said  Adam.  "She  isn't  so  very  well. 
She's  white  as  putty,  and  there  are  great  big,  dark  hollows 
under  her  eyes,  and  she's  always  panting  for  breath  like 
she  had  been  running.  Nearly  every  time  I  pass  there  I 
see  her  out  scrubbing  the  porches,  or  feeding  the  chickens, 
or  cashing  windows,  or  something.  You  bet  Mrs. 
Peters  has  got  a  fine  hired  girl  now,  and  she's  smiling; 
all  over  about  it." 

"She  really  has  something  to  smile  about,"  said  Kate. 

To  Polly's  ears  went  the  word  that  Adam  and  her 
mother  were  having  a  fine  time  together,  always  to- 
gether; and  that  they  had  Milly  York  up  three  times  a 
week  to  spend  the  evening;  and  that  Milly  said  that  it 
passed  her  to  see  why  Polly  ran  away  from  Mrs.  Holt. 
She  was  the  grandest  woman  alive,  and  if  she  had  any 
running  to  do  in  her  neighbourhood,  she  would  run  to  her, 
and  not  from  her.  Whereupon  Polly  closed  her  lips 
firmly  and  looked  black,  but  not  before  she  had  said: 
"Well,  if  Mother  had  done  just  one  night  a  week  of  that 


4i2  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

entertaining  for  Henry  and  me,  we  wouldn't  have  run 
from  her,  either." 

Polly  said  nothing  until  April,  then  Kate  answered  the 
telephone  one  day  and  a  few  seconds  later  was  ringing 
for  Adam  as  if  she  would  pull  down  the  bell.  He 
came  running  and  soon  was  on  his  way  to  Peters' 
with  the  single  buggy,  with  instructions  to  drive  slowly 
and  carefully  and  on  no  account  to  let  Polly  slip  getting 
out.  The  Peters  family  had  all  gone  to  bury  an 
aunt  in  the  neighbourhood,  leaving  Polly  alone  for  the 
day;  and  Polly  at  once  called  up  her  mother,  and  said 
she  was  dying  to  see  her,  and  if  she  couldn't  come  home 
for  the  day,  she  would  die  soon,  and  be  glad  of  it.  Kate 
knew  the  visit  should  not  have  been  made  at  that  time 
and  in  that  way;  but  she  knew  that  Polly  was  under  a 
dangerous  nerve  strain;  she  herself  would  not  go  to  Peters' 
in  Mrs.  Peters'  absence;  she  did  not  know  what  else 
to  do.  As  she  waited  for  Polly  she  thought  of  many 
things  she  would  say;  when  she  saw  her,  she  took  her 
in  her  arms  and  almost  carried  her  into  the  house,  and 
she  said  nothing  at  all,  save  how  glad  she  was  to  see  her, 
and  she  did  nothing  at  all,  except  to  try  with  all  her 
might  to  comfort  and  please  her,  for  to  Kate,  Polly  did 
not  seem  like  a  strong,  healthy  girl  approaching  maternity. 
She  appeared  like  a  very  sick  woman,  who  sorely  needed 
attention,  while  a  few  questions  made  her  so  sure  of  it 
that  she  at  once  called  Robert.  He  gave  both  of  them  all 
the  comfort  he  could,  but  what  he  told  Nancy  Ellen  was: 
"Polly  has  had  no  attention  whatever.     She  wants  me, 


POLLY  TRIES  HER  WINGS  413 

and  I'll  have  to  go;  but  it's  a  case  I'd  like  to  side-step. 
I'll  do  all  I  can,  but  the  time  is  short." 

"Oh,  Lord!"  said  Nancy  Ellen.  "Is  it  one  more  for 
Kate?" 

"Yes,"  said  Robert,  "I  am  very  much  afraid  it's  'one 
more  for  Kate.'" 


CHAPTER  XXV 
One  More  For  Kate 

POLLY  and  Kate  had  a  long  day  together,  while 
Adam  was  about  the  house  much  of  the  time. 
Both  of  them  said  and  did  everything  they  could 
think  of  to  cheer  and  comfort  Polly,  whose  spirits  seemed 
most  variable.  One  minute  she  would  be  laughing  and 
planning  for  the  summer  gaily,  the  next  she  would  be 
gloomy  and  depressed,  and  declaring  she  never  would 
live  through  the  birth  of  her  baby.  If  she  had  appeared 
well,  this  would  not  have  worried  Kate;  but  she  looked 
even  sicker  than  she  seemed  to  feel.  She  was  thin 
while  her  hands  were  hot  and  tremulous.  As  the 
afternoon  went  on  and  time  to  go  came  nearer,  she 
grew  more  and  more  despondent,  until  Kate  proposed 
watching  when  the  Peters  family  came  home,  calling 
them  up,  and  telling  them  that  Polly  was  there,  would 
remain  all  night,  and  that  Henry  should  come  down. 

Polly  flatly  vetoed  the  proposition,  but  she  seemed  to 
feel  much  better  after  it  had  been  made.  She  was  like 
herself  again  for  a  short  time,  and  then  she  turned  to 
Kate  and  said  suddenly:  "Mother,  if  I  don't  get  over 
this,  will  you  take  my  baby?" 

Kate  looked  at  Polly  intently.    What  she  saw  stopped 

414 


ONE  MORE  FOR  KATE  415 

the  ready  answer  that  was  on  her  lips.  She  stood  think- 
ing deeply.  At  last  she  said  gently:  "Why,  Polly, 
would  you  want  to  trust  a  tiny  baby  with  a  woman 
you  ran  away  from  yourself?" 

"Mother,  I  haven't  asked  you  to  forgive  me  for  the 
light  I  put  you  in  before  the  neighbours,"  said  Polly, 
"because  I  knew  you  couldn't  honestly  do  it,  and  wouldn't 
lie  to  say  you  did.  I  don't  know  what  made  me  do  that. 
I  was  tired  staying  alone  at  the  house  so  much,  I  was 
wild  about  Henry,  I  was  bound  I  wouldn't  leave  him  and 
go  away  to  school.  I  just  thought  it  would  settle  every- 
thing easily  and  quickly.  I  never  once  thought  of  how 
it  would  make  you  look  and  feel.  Honestly  I  didn't, 
Mother.    You  believe  me,  don't  you?" 

"Yes,  I  believe  you,"  said  Kate. 

"It  was  an  awful  thing  for  me  to  do,"  said  Polly.  "I 
was  foolish  and  crazy,  and  I  suppose  I  shouldn't  say  it, 
but  I  certainly  did  have  a  lot  of  encouragement 
from  the  Peters  family.  They  all  seemed  to  think 
it  would  be  a  great  joke,  that  it  wouldn't  make  any 
difference,  and  all  that,  so  I  just  did  it.  I  knew  I  shouldn't 
have  done  it;  but,  Mother,  you'll  never  know  the  fight 
I've  had  all  my  life  to  keep  from  telling  stories  and 
sneaking.  I  hated  your  everlasting:  *  Now  be  careful,'  but 
when  I  hated  it  most,  I  needed  it  worst;  and  I  knew  it, 
when  I  grew  older.  If  only  you  had  been  here  to  say, 
'Now  be  careful,'  just  once,  I  never  would  have  done  it; 
but  of  course  I  couldn't  have  you  to  keep  me  straight 
all  my  life.     All  I  can  say  is  that  I'd  give  my  life  and 


4i6  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

never  whimper,  if  I  could  be  back  home  as  I  was  this 
time  last  year,  and  have  a  chance  to  do  things  your  way. 
But  that  is  past,  and  I  can't  change  it.  What  I  came  for 
to-day,  and  what  I  want  to  know  now  is,  if  I  go,  will  you 
take  my  baby?" 

"Polly,  you  know  the  Peters  family  wouldn't  let  me 
have  it,"  said  Kate. 

"If  it's  a  boy,  they  wouldn't  want  it,"  said  Polly. 
"Neither  would  you,  for  that  matter.  If  it's  a  girl, 
they'll  fight  for  it;  but  it  won't  do  them  any  good.  All 
I  want  to  know  is,  will  you  take  it  ?  " 

"Of  course  I  would,  Polly,"  said  Kate. 

"Since  I  have  your  word,  I'll  feel  better,"  said  Folly. 
"And  Mother,  you  needn't  be  afraid  of  it.  It  will  be  all  right. 
I  have  thought  about  it  so  much  I  have  it  all  figured  out. 
It's  going  to  be  a  girl,  and  it's  going  to  be  exactly  like  you, 
and  its  name  is  going  to  be  Katherine  Eleanor.  I  have 
thought  about  you  every  hour  I  was  awake  since  I  have 
been  gone;  so  the  baby  will  have  to  be  exactly  like  you. 
There  won't  be  the  taint  of  grandmother  in  it  that  there 
is  in  me.  You  needn't  be  afraid.  I  quit  sneaking  forever 
when  Adam  told  me  what  I  had  done  to  you.  I  have 
gone  straight  as  a  dart,  Mother,  every  single  minute  since, 
Mother;  truly  I  have!" 

Kate  sat  down  suddenly,  an  awful  sickness  in  her  heart. 

"Why,  you  poor  child  you!"  she  said. 

"Oh,  I've  been  all  right,"  said  Polly.  "I've  been  al- 
most petted  and  loved  to  death;  but  Mother,  there  never 
should  be  the  amount  of  work  attached  to  living  that 


ONE  MORE  FOR  KATE  417 

there  is  in  that  house.  It's  never  ending,  it's  intolerable. 
Mrs.  Peters  just  goes  until  she  drops,  and  then  instead  of 
sleeping,  she  lies  awake  planning  some  hard,  foolish,  un- 
necessary thing  to  do  next.  Maybe  she  can  stand  it 
herself,  but  I'm  tired  out.  I'm  going  to  sit  down,  and  not 
budge  to  do  another  stroke  until  after  the  baby  comes, 
and  then  I  am  going  to  coax  Henry  to  rent  a  piece  of  land, 
and  move  to  ourselves." 

Kate  took  heart.  "That  will  be  fine!"  she  cried. 
"That  will  be  the  very  thing.  I'll  ask  the  boys  to  keep 
their  eyes  open  for  any  chance  for  you." 

"You  needn't  take  any  bother  about  it,"  said  Polly, 
"because  that  isn't  what  is  going  to  happen.  All  I  want 
to  be  sure  of  now  is  that  you  and  Adam  will  take  my 
baby.     I'll  see  to  the  rest." 

"How  will  you  see  to  it,  Polly?"  asked  Kate,  gently. 

"Well,  it's  already  seen  to,  for  matter  of  that,"  said 
Polly  conclusively.  "I've  known  for  quite  a  while  that 
I  was  sick;  but  I  couldn't  make  them  do  anything  but 
kiss  me,  and  laugh  at  me,  until  I  am  so  ill  that  I  know 
better  how  I  feel  than  anybody  else.  I  got  tired  being 
laughed  at,  and  put  off  about  everything,  so  one  day  in 
Hartley,  while  Mother  Peters  was  shopping,  I  just  went 
in  to  the  lawyer  Grandmother  always  went  to,  and  told 
him  all  about  what  I  wanted.  He  has  the  papers  made 
out  all  right  and  proper;  so  when  I  send  for  Uncle  Robert, 
I  am  going  to  send  for  him;too,and  soon  as  the  baby  comes 
I'll  put  in  its  name  and  sign  it,  and  make  Henry,  and  then 
if  I  have  to  go,  you  won't  have  a  bit  of  trouble." 


4i 8  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

Kate  gazed  at  Polly  in  dumb  amazement.  She  was 
speechless  for  a  time,  then  to  break  the  strain  she  said: 

"My  soul!  Did  you  really,  Polly?  I  guess  there  is 
more  Bates  in  you  than  I  had  thought!" 

"Oh,  there's  some  Bates  in  me,"  said  Polly.  "There's 
enough  to  make  me  live  until  I  sign  that  paper,  and 
make  Henry  Peters  sign  it,  and  send  Mr.  Thomlins  to 
you  with  it  and  the  baby.  I  can  do  that,  because  I'm 
going  to!" 

Ten  days  later  she  did  exactly  what  she  had  said  she 
would.  Then  she  turned  her  face  to  the  wall  and  went 
into  a  convulsion  out  of  which  she  never  came.  While  the 
Peters  family  refused  Kate's  plea  to  lay  Polly  beside  her 
grandmother,  and  laid  her  in  their  family  lot,  Kate, 
moaning  dumbly,  sat  clasping  a  tiny  red  girl  in  her  arms. 
Adam  drove  to  Hartley  to  deposit  one  more  paper,  the 
most  precious  of  all,  in  the  safety  deposit  box. 

Kate  and  Adam  mourned  too  deeply  to  talk  about  it. 
They  went  about  their  daily  rounds  silently,  each  busy 
with  regrets  and  self  investigations.  They  watched  each 
other  carefully,  were  kinder  than  they  ever  had  been  to 
everyone  they  came  in  contact  with;  the  baby  they 
frankly  adored.  Kate  had  reared  her  own  children  with 
small  misgivings,  quite  casually,  in  fact;  but  her  heart  was 
torn  to  the  depths  about  this  baby.  Life  never  would  be 
even  what  it  had  been  before  Polly  left  them,  for  into  her 
going  there  entered  an  element  of  self-reproach  and  contin- 
ual self-condemnation.  Adam  felt  that  if  he  had  been 
less  occupied  with  Milly  York  and  had  taken  proper  care 


ONE  MORE  FOR  KATE  419 

of  his  sister,  he  would  not  have  lost  her.  Kate  had  less 
time  for  recrimination,  because  she  had  the  baby. 

"Look  for  a  good  man  to  help  you  this  summer,  Adam," 
she  said.  "The  baby  is  full  of  poison  which  can  be  elim- 
inated only  slowly.  If  I  don't  get  it  out  before  teeth- 
ing, I'll  lose  her,  and  then  we  never  shall  hear  the  last 
from  the  Peters  family.  Adam  consigned  the  Peters 
family  to  a  location  he  thought  suitable  for  them  on  the  in- 
stant. He  spoke  with  unusual  bitterness,  because  he  had 
heard  that  the  Peters  family  were  telling  that  Polly  had 
grieved  herself  to  death,  while  his  mother  had  engineered 
a  scheme  whereby  she  had  stolen  the  baby.  Occasionally 
a  word  drifted  to  Kate  here  and  there,  until  she  realized 
much  of  what  they  were  saying.  At  first  she  grieved  too 
deeply  to  pay  any  attention,  but  as  the  summer  went  on 
and  the  baby  flourished  and  grew  fine  and  strong,  and  she 
had  time  in  the  garden,'  she  began  to  feel  better;  grief 
began  to  wear  away,  as  it  always  does. 

By  midsummer  the  baby  was  in  short  clothes,  sitting 
in  a  high  chair,  which  if  Miss  Baby  only  had  known  it, 
was  a  throne  before  which  knelt  her  two  adoring  sub- 
jects. Polly  had  said  the  baby  would  be  like  Kate.  Its 
hair  and  colouring  were  like  hers,  but  it  had  the  brown 
eyes  of  its  father,  and  enough  of  his  facial  lines  to  tone 
down  the  too  generous  Bates  features.  When  the  baby 
was  five  months  old  it  was  too  pretty  for  adequate  de- 
scription. One  baby  has  no  business  with  perfect  features, 
a  mop  of  curly,  yellow  silk  hair,  and  big  brown  eyes.  One 
of  the  questions   Kate  and  Adam  discussed   most  fre- 


420  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

quently  was  where  they  would  send  her  to  college, 
while  one  they  did  not  discuss  was  how  sick  her  stomach 
teeth  would  make  her.  They  merely  lived  in  mortal 
dread  of  that.  "Convulsion,"  was  a  word  that  held 
a  terror  for  Kate  above  any  other  in  the  medical 
books. 

The  baby  had  a  good,  formal  name,  but  no  one  ever 
used  it.  Adam,  on  first  lifting  the  blanket,  had  fancied 
the  child  resembled  its  mother  and  had  called  her 
"Little  Poll."  The  name  clung  to  her.  Kate  could  not 
call  such  a  tiny  morsel  either  Kate  or  Katherine;  she  liked 
"Little  Poll,"  better.  The  baby  had  three  regular 
visitors.  One  was  her  father.  He  was  not  fond  of 
Kate;  Little  Poll  suited  him.  He  expressed  his  feeling 
by  bringing  gifts  of  toys,  candy,  and  unsuitable  clothes. 
Kate  kept  these  things  in  evidence  when  she  saw  him 
coming  and  swept  them  from  sight  when  he  went;  for 
she  had  the  good  sense  not  to  antagonize  him.  Nancy 
Ellen  came  almost  every  day,  proudly  driving  her  new 
car,  and  with  the  light  of  a  new  joy  on  her  face.  She 
never  said  anything  to  Kate,  but  Kate  knew  what  had 
happened.  Nancy  Ellen  came  to  see  the  baby.  She 
brought  it  lovely  and  delicate  little  shoes,  embroidered 
dresses  and  hoods,  cloaks  and  blankets.  One  day  as 
she  sat  holding  it  she  said  to  Kate:  "Isn't  the  baby  a 
dreadful  bother  to  you?  You're  not  getting  half  your 
usual  work  done." 

"No,   I'm   doing  unusual  work,"   said   Kate,   lightly. 
"Adam  is  hiring  a  man  who  does  my  work  very  well  in 


ONE  MORE  FOR  KATE  421 

the  fields;  there  isn't  money  that  would  hire  me  to  let 
any  one  else  take  my  job  indoors,  right  now." 

A  slow  red  crept  into  Nancy  Ellen's  cheeks.  She  had 
meant  to  be  diplomatic,  but  diplomacy  never  worked 
well  with  Kate.  As  Nancy  Ellen  often  said,  Kate  under- 
stood a  sledge-hammer  better.  Nancy  Ellen  used  the 
hammer.  Her  face  flushed,  her  arms  closed  tightly.  "Give 
me  this  baby,"  she  demanded. 

Kate  looked  at  her  in  helpless  amazement. 

"Give  it  to  me,"  repeated  Nancy  Ellen. 

"She's  a  gift  to  me,"  said  Kate,  slowly.  "One  the 
Peters  family  are  searching  heaven  and  earth  to  find 
an  excuse  to  take  from  me.  I  hear  they've  been  to  a  law- 
yer twice,  already.  I  wouldn't  give  her  up  to  save  my 
soul  alive,  for  myself;  for  you,  if  I  would  let  you  have  her, 
they  would  not  leave  you  in  possession  a  day." 

"Are  they  really  trying  to  get  her?"  asked  Nancy 
Ellen,  slowly  loosening  her  grip. 

"They  are,"  said  Kate.  "They  sent  a  lawyer  to 
get  a  copy  of  the  papers,  to  see  if  they  could  pick  a  flaw 
in  them." 

"Can  they?"  cried  Nancy  Ellen. 

"God  knows!"  said  Kate,  slowly.  "I  hope  not.  Mr. 
Thomlins  is  the  best  lawyer  in  Hartley;  he  says  not. 
He  says  Henry  put  his  neck  in  the  noose  when  he  signed 
the  papers.  The  only  chance  I  can  see  for  him  would  be  to 
plead  undue  influence.  When  you  look  at  her,  you  can't 
blame  him  for  wanting  her.  I've  two  hopes.  One  that 
his  mother  will  not  want  the  extra  work;  the  other  that 


422  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

the  next  girl  he  selects  will  not  want  the  baby.  If  I  can 
keep  them  going  a  few  months  more  with  a  teething  scare, 
I  hope  they  will  get  over  wanting  her." 

"If  they  do,  then  may  we  have  her?"  asked  Nancy 
Ellen. 

Kate  threw  out  her  hands.  "Take  my  eyes,  or  my 
hands,  or  my  feet,"  she  said;  "but  leave  me  my  heart." 

Nancy  Ellen  went  soon  after,  and  did  not  come  again 
for  several  days.  Then  she  began  coming  as  usual,  so 
that  the  baby  soon  knew  her  and  laughed  in  high  glee 
when  she  appeared.  Dr.  Gray  often  stopped  in  passing 
to  see  her;  if  he  was  in  great  haste,  he  hallooed  at  the 
gate  to  ask  if  she  was  all  right.  Kate  was  thankful  for 
this,  more  than  thankful  for  the  telephone  and  car  that 
would  bring  him  in  fifteen  minutes  day  or  night,  if  he  were 
needed.  But  he  was  not  needed.  Little  Poll  throve  and 
grew  fat  and  rosy;  for  she  ate  measured  food,  slept  by 
the  clock,  in  a  sanitary  bed,  and  was  a  bathed,  splendidly 
cared  for  baby.  When  Kate's  family  and  friends  laughed, 
she  paid  not  the  slightest  heed. 

"Laugh  away,"  she  said.  "I've  got  something  to 
fight  with  this  baby;  I  don't  propose  for  the  battle  to  come 
and  find  the  chances  against  me,  because  I'm  unprepared.5 

With  scrupulous  care  Kate  watched  over  the  child, 
always  putting  her  first,  the  house  and  land  afterward. 
One  day  she  looked  up  the  road  and  saw  Henry  Peters 
coming.  She  had  been  expecting  Nancy  Ellen.  She  had 
finished  bathing  the  baby  and  making  her.  especially 
attractive  in  a  dainty  lace  ruffled  dress  with  blue  ribbons 


ONE  MORE  FOR  KATE  423 

and  blue  shoes  that  her  sister  had  brought  on  her  latest  trip. 
Little  Poll  was  a  wonderful  picture,  for  her  eyes  were 
always  growing  bigger,  her  cheeks  pinker,  her  skin 
fairer,  her  hair  longer  and  more  softly  curling.  At  first 
thought  Kate  had  been  inclined  to  snatch  off  the  dress 
and  change  to  one  of  the  cheap,  ready-made  ginghams 
Henry  brought,  but  the  baby  was  so  lovely  as  she 
was,  she  had  not  the  heart  to  spoil  the  picture,  while 
Nancy  Ellen  might  come  any  minute.  So  she  began 
putting  things  in  place  while  Little  Poll  sat  crowing  and 
trying  to  pick  up  a  sunbeam  that  fell  across  her  tray. 
Her  father  came  to  the  door  and  stood  looking  at  her. 
Suddenly  he  dropped  in  a  chair,  covered  his  face  with  his 
hands  and  began  to  cry,  in  deep,  shuddering  sobs.  Kate 
stood  still  in  wonderment.  At  last  she  seated  herself 
before  him  and  said  gently:  "Won't  you  tell  me  about 
it,  Henry?" 

Henry  struggled  for  self-control.  He  looked  at  the 
baby  longingly.  Finally  he  said:  "It's  pretty  tough  to 
give  up  a  baby  like  that,  Mrs.  Holt.  She's  my  little  girl. 
I  wish  God  had  struck  my  right  hand  with  palsy,  when 
I  went  to  sign  those  papers." 

"Oh,  no,  you  don't,  Henry,"  said  Kate,  suavely. 
"You  wouldn't  like  to  live  the  rest  of  your  life  a  cripple. 
And  is  it  any  worse  for  me  to  have  your  girl  in  spite  of 
the  real  desires  and  dictates  of  your  heart,  than  it  was 
for  you  to  have  mine?  And  you  didn't  take  the  intelligent 
care  of  my  girl  that  I'm  taking  of  yours,  either.  A 
doctor  and  a  little  right  treatment  at  the  proper  time 


424  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

would  have  saved  Polly  to  rear  her  own  baby;  but  there's 
no  use  to  go  into  that.  I  was  waiting  for  Polly  to  come 
home  of  her  own  accord,  as  she  left  it;  and  while  I  waited, 
a  poison  crept  into  her  system  that  took  her.  I  never 
shall  feel  right  about  it;  neither  shall  you " 

"No,  I  should  say  I  won't!"  said  Henry  emphatically. 
"I  never  thought  of  anything  being  the  matter  with 
Polly  that  wouldn't  all  be  over  when  the  baby  came " 

"I  know  you  didn't,  Henry,"  said  Kate.  "I  know  how 
much  you  would  have  done,  and  how  gladly,  if  you  had 
known.  There  is  no  use  going  into  that,  we  are  both 
very  much  to  blame;  we  must  take  our  punishment. 
Now  what  is  this  I  hear  about  your  having  been  to  see 
lawyers  and  trying  to  find  a  way  to  set  aside  the  adoption 
papers  you  signed?  Let's  have  a  talk,  and  see  what  we 
can  arrive  at.     Tell  me  all  about  it." 

So  Henry  told  Kate  how  he  had  loved  Polly,  how  he  felt 
guilty  of  her  death,  how  he  longed  for  and  wanted  her 
baby,  how  he  had  signed  the  paper  which  Polly  put  before 
him  so  unexpectedly,  to  humour  her,  because  she  was 
very  ill;  but  he  had  not  dreamed  that  she  could  die; 
how  he  did  not  feel  that  he  should  be  bound  by  that 
signature  now.  Kate  listened  with  the  deepest  sym- 
pathy, assenting  to  most  he  said  until  he  was  silent. 
Then  she  sat  thinking  a  long  time.  At  last  she  said: 
"Henry,  if  you  and  Polly  had  waited  until  I  came  home, 
and  told  me  what  you  wanted  and  how  you  felt,  I  should 
have  gotten  her  ready,  and  given  you  a  customary  wed- 
ding,   and  helped   you   to  a   start   in   life   that   I   think 


ONE  MORE  FOR  KATE  425 

would  have  saved  her  to  you,  and  to  me.  That  is  past, 
but  the  fact  remains.  You  are  hurt  over  giving  up  the 
baby  as  you  have;  I'm  hurt  over  losing  my  daughter  as 
I  did;  we  are  about  even  on  the  past,  don't  you  think?" 

"I  suppose  we  are,"  he  said,  heavily. 

"That  being  agreed,"  said  Kate,  "let  us  look  to  the 
future.  You  want  the  baby  now,  I  can  guess  how  much, 
by  how  much  I  want  her,  myself.  I  know  your  point  of 
view;  there  are  two  others,  one  is  mine,  and  the  other  is 
the  baby's.  I  feel  that  it  is  only  right  and  just  that  I 
should  have  this  little  girl  to  replace  the  one  you  took 
from  me,  in  a  way  far  from  complimentary  to  me.  I 
feel  that  she  is  mine,  because  Polly  told  me  the  day  she 
came  to  see  me  how  sick  she  had  been,  how  she  had 
begged  for  a  doctor,  and  been  kissed  and  told  there  was 
nothing  the  matter  with  her,  when  she  knew  she  was 
very  ill.  She  gave  the  baby  to  me,  and  at  that  time  she 
had  been  to  see  a  lawyer,  and  had  her  papers  all  made  out 
except  the  signatures  and  dates.  Mr.  Thomlins  can  tell 
you  that;  and  you  know  that  up  to  that  time  I  had  not 
seen  Polly,  or  had  any  communication  with  her.  She 
simply  was  unnerved  at  the  thought  of  trusting  her  baby 
to  the  care  she  had  had." 

Kate  was  hitting  hard  and  straight  from  the  shoulder. 
The  baby,  busy  with  her  sunbeam,  jabbered  unnoticed. 

"When  Polly  died  as  she  did,"  continued  Kate,  "I 
knew  that  her  baby  would  be  full  of  the  same  poison 
that  killed  her;  and  that  it  must  be  eliminated  before  it 
came  time  to  cut  her  worst  teeth,  so  I  undertook  the 


426  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

work,  and  sleeping  or  waking,  I  have  been  at  it  ever  since. 
Now,  Henry,  is  there  any  one  at  your  house  who  would 
have  figured  this  out,  and  taken  the  time,  pains,  and  done 
work  that  I  have?     Is  there?" 

"Mother  raised  six  of  us,"  he  said  defensively. 

"But  she  didn't  die  of  diathesis  giving  birth  to  the 
first  of  you,"  said  Kate.  "You  were  all  big,  strong  boys 
with  a  perfectly  sound  birthright.  And  your  mother  is 
now  a  much  older,  wearier  woman  than  she  was  then,  and 
her  hands  are  far  too  full  every  day,  as  it  is.  If  she 
knew  how  to  handle  the  baby  as  I  have,  and  was  willing 
to  add  the  work  to  her  daily  round,  would  you  be  willing 
to  have  her?  I  have  three  times  her  strength,  while  I 
consider  that  I've  the  first  right.  Then  there  is  the  baby's 
side  of  the  question.  I  have  had  her  through  the  worst, 
hardest  part  of  babyhood;  she  is  accustomed  to  a  fixed 
routine  that  you  surely  will  concede  agrees  with  her;  she 
would  miss  me,  and  she  would  not  thrive  as  she  does 
with  me,  for  her  food  and  her  hours  would  not  be  regular, 
while  you,  and  your  father,  and  the  boys  would  tire  her 
to  death  handling  her.  That  is  the  start.  The  finish 
would  be  that  she  would  grow  up,  if  she  survived,  to 
take  the  place  Polly  took  at  your  house,  while  you  would 
marry  some  other  girl,  as  you  will  before  a  year  from  now. 
I'm  dreadfully  sorry  to  say  these  things  to  you,  Henry, 
but  you  know  they  are  the  truth.  If  you're  going  to 
try  to  take  the  baby,  I'm  going  to  fight  you  to  the  last 
dollar  I  can  raise,  and  the  last  foot  of  land  I  own.  That's 
all.     Look  at  the  baby;  think  it  over;  and  let  me  know 


ONE  MORE  FOR  KATE  427 

what  you'll  do  as  soon  as  you  can.  I'm  not  asking  mercy 
at  your  hands,  but  I  do  feel  that  I  have  suffered  about 
my  share." 

"You  needn't  suffer  any  longer,"  said  Henry,  drying 
his  eyes.  "All  you  say  is  true;  just  as  what  I  said  was 
true;  but  I  might  as  well  tell  you,  and  let  one  of  us  be 
happy.  I  saw  my  third  lawyer  yesterday,  and  he  said 
the  papers  were  unbreakable  unless  I  could  prove  that 
the  child  was  neglected,  and  not  growing  right,  or  not 
having  proper  care.  Look  at  her!  I  might  do  some 
things!  I  did  do  a  thing  as  mean  as  to  persuade  a  girl  to 
marry  me  without  her  mother's  knowledge,  and  ruined  her 
life  thereby,  but  God  knows  I  couldn't  go  on  the  witness 
stand  and  swear  that  that  baby  is  not  properly  cared  for! 
Mother's  job  is  big  enough;  and  while  it  doesn't  seem 
possible  now,  very  likely  I  shall  marry  again,  as  other 
men  do;  and  in  that  event,  Little  Poll  would  be  happier 
with  you.  I  give  her  up.  I  think  I  came  this  morning 
to  say  that  I  was  defeated;  and  to  tell  you  that  I'd  give 
up  if  I  saw  that  you  would  fight.  Keep  the  baby,  and 
be  as  happy  as  you  can.  You  shan't  be  worried  any 
more  about  her.  Polly  shall  have  this  thing  as  she  de- 
sired and  planned  it.     Good-bye." 

When  he  had  gone  Kate  knelt  on  the  floor,  laid  her 
head  on  the  chair  tray,  and  putting  her  arms  around  the 
baby  she  laughed  and  cried  at  the  same  time,  while  Miss 
Baby  pulled  her  hair,  patted  her  face,  and  plastered  it 
with  wet,  uncertain  kisses.  Then  Kate  tied  a  little  bonnet 
on  the  baby's  head  and  taking  her  in  her  arms,  she  went 


428  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

to  the  field  to  tell  Adam.  It  seemed  to  Kate  that  she 
could  see  responsibility  slipping  from  his  shoulders,  could 
see  him  grow  taller  as  he  listened.  The  breath  of  relief 
he  drew  was  long  and  deep. 

"Fine!"  he  cried.  "Fine!  I  haven't  told  you  half  I 
knew.    I've  been  worried  until  I  couldn't  sleep." 

Kate  went  back  to  the  house  so  glad  she  did  not  realize 
she  was  touching  earth  at  all.  She  fed  the  baby  and  laid 
her  down  for  her  morning  nap,  and  then  went  out  in  the 
garden;  but  she  was  too  restless  to  work.  She  walked 
bareheaded  in  the  sun  and  was  glad  as  she  never  before 
in  her  life  had  known  how  to  be  glad.  The  first  thing 
Kate  knew  she  was  standing  at  the  gate  looking  up  at 
the  noonday  sky  and  from  the  depths  of  her  heart  she 
was  crying  aloud:  "Praise  ye  the  Lord,  Oh  my  soul.  Let 
all  that  is  within  me  praise  His  holy  name!" 

For  the  remainder  of  the  day  Kate  was  unblushingly 
insane.  She  started  to  do  a  hundred  things  and  abandoned 
all  of  them  to  go  out  and  look  up  at  the  sky  and  to  cry 
repeatedly:  "Praise  the  Lord!" 

If  she  had  been  asked  to  explain  why  she  did  this,  Kate 
could  have  answered,  and  would  have  answered:  "Be- 
cause I  feel  like  it!"  She  had  been  taught  no  religion  as 
a  child,  she  had  practised  no  formal  mode  of  worship 
as  a  woman.  She  had  been  straight,  honest,  and  virtuous. 
She  had  faced  life  and  done  with  small  question  the  work 
that  she  thought  fell  to  her  hand.  She  had  accepted 
joy,  sorrow,  shame,  all  in  the  same  stoic  way.  Always 
she  had  felt  that  there  was  a  mighty  force  in  the  universe 


ONE  MORE  FOR  KATE  429 

,- 
that  could  as  well  be  called  God  as  any  other  name;  it 

mattered  not  about  the  name;  it  was  a  real  force,  and 

it  was  there. 

That  day  Kate  exulted.  She  carried  the  baby  down 
to  the  brook  in  the  afternoon  and  almost  shouted;  she 
sang  until  she  could  have  been  heard  a  mile.  She  kept 
straight  on  praising  the  Lord,  because  expression  was  im- 
perative, and  that  was  the  form  of  expression  that  seemed 
to  come  naturally  to  her.  Without  giving  a  thought  as  to 
how,  or  why,  she  followed  her  impulses  and  praised  the 
Lord.  The  happier  she  grew,  the  more  clearly  she  saw 
how  uneasy  and  frightened  she  had  been. 

When  Nancy  Ellen  came,  she  took  only  one  glance  at 
Kate's  glorified  face  and  asked:  "What  in  this  world 
has  happened  to  you?" 

Kate  answered  in  all  seriousness:  "My  Lord  has 
'shut  the  lions'  mouths,'  and  they  are  not  going  to  harm 
me." 

Nancy  Ellen  regarded  her  closely.  "I  hope  you 
aren't  running  a  temperature,"  she  said.  "I'll  take  a 
shot  at  random.  You  have  found  out  that  the  Peters 
family  can't  take  Little  Poll." 

Kate  laughed  joyously.  "Better  than  that,  sister 
mine!"  she  cried.  "I  have  convinced  Henry  that  he 
doesn't  want  her  himself  as  much  as  he  wants  me  to  have 
her,  and  he  can  speedily  convert  his  family.  He  will  do 
nothing  morer    He  will  leave  me  in  peace  with  her." 

"Thank  God!"  said  Nancy  Ellen. 

"There  you  go,  too!"  cried  Kate.     "That's  the  very 


430  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

first  thought  that  came  to  me,  only  I  said,  'Praise  the 
Lord/  which  is  exactly  the  same  thing;  and  Nancy  Ellen, 
since  Robert  has  been  trying  to  praise  the  Lord  for  twenty 
years,  and  both  of  us  do  praise  Him  when  our  time  comes, 
wouldn't  it  be  a  good  idea  to  open  up  our  heads  and  say 
so,  not  only  to  ourselves  and  to  the  Lord,  but  to  the 
neighbours?  I'm  afraid  she  won't  understand  much  of 
it,  but  I  think  I  shall  find  the  place  and  read  to  Little 
Poll  about  Abraham  and  Isaac  to-night,  and  probably 
about  Hagar  and  Ishmael  to-morrow  night,  and  it  wouldn't 
surprise  me  a  mite  to  hear  myself  saying  'Praise  the 
Lord,'  right  out  loud,  any  time,  any  place.  Let's  gather 
a  great  big  bouquet  of  our  loveliest  flowers,  and  go  tell 
Mother  and  Polly  about  it." 

Without  a  word  Nancy  Ellen  turned  toward  the 
garden.  They  gathered  the  flowers  and  getting  in 
Nancy  Ellen's  car  drove  the  short  distance  to  the  church 
where  Nancy  Ellen  played  with  the  baby  in  the  shade 
of  a  big  tree  while  Kate  arranged  her  flowers.  Then  she 
sat  down  and  they  talked  over  their  lives  from  childhood. 

"Nancy  Ellen,  won't  you  stay  to  supper  with  us  ?"  askec4 
Kate. 

"Yes,"  said  Nancy  Ellen,  rising,  "I  haven't  had  such 
a  good  time  in  years.  I'm  as  glad  for  you  as  I'd  be  if 
I  had  such  a  child  assured  me,  myself." 

"You  can't  bring  yourself ?"  began  Kate, 

"Yes,  I  think  so,"  said  Nancy  Ellen.  "Getting  things 
for  Little  Poll  has  broken  me  up  so,  I  told  Robert  how  I 
felt,  and  he's  watching  in  his  practice,  and  he's  written 


ONE  MORE  FOR  KATE  431 

several  letters  of  inquiry  to  friends  in  Chicago.  Any  day 
now  I  may  have  my  work  cut  out  for  me." 

"Praise  the  Lord  again!"  cried  Kate.  "I  see  where 
you  will  be  happier  than  you  ever  have  been.  Real  life 
is  just  beginning  for  you." 

Then  they  went  home  and  prepared  a  good  supper  and 
had  such  a  fine  time  they  were  exalted  in  heart  and  spirit. 
When  Nancy  Ellen  started  home,  Kate  took  the  baby  and 
climbed  in  the  car  with  her,  explaining  that  they  would 
go  a  short  way  and  walk  back.  She  went  only  as  far  as 
the  Peters  gate;  then  she  bravely  walked  up  to  the  porch, 
where  Mr.  Peters  and  some  of  the  boys  sat,  and  said 
casually:  "I  just  thought  I'd  bring  Little  Poll  up  to  get 
acquainted  with  her  folks.     Isn't  she  dear?" 

An  hour  later,  as  she  walked  back  in  the  moonlight, 
Henry  beside  her  carrying  the  baby,  he  said  to  her: 
"This  is  a  mighty  big  thing,  and  a  kind  thing  for  you  to 
do,  Mrs.  Holt.  Mother  has  been  saying  scandalous  things 
about  you." 

"I  know,"  said  Kate.  "But  never  mind!  She  won't 
any  more." 

The  remainder  of  the  week  she  passed  in  the  same  up- 
lifted mental  state.  She  carried  the  baby  in  her  arms 
and  walked  all  over  the  farm,  going  often  to  the  ceme- 
tery with  fresh  flowers.  Sunday  morning,  when  the  work 
was  all  done,  the  baby  dressed  her  prettiest,  Kate  slipped 
into  one  of  her  fresh  white  dresses  and  gathering  a  big 
bunch  of  flowers  started  again  to  whisper  above  the 
graves  of  her  mother  and  Polly  the  story  of  her  gladness, 


432  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

and  to  freshen  the  flowers,  so  that  the  people  coming 
from  church  would  see  that  her  family  were  remembered. 
When  she  had  finished  she  arose,  took  up  the  baby,  and 
started  to  return  across  the  cemetery,  going  behind  the 
church,  taking  the  path  she  had  travelled  the  day  she 
followed  the  minister's  admonition  to  "take  the  wings  of 
morning."  She  thought  of  that.  She  stood  very  still, 
thinking  deeply. 

"I  took  them,"  she  said.  "I've  tried  flight  after  flight; 
and  I've  fallen,  and  risen,  and  fallen,  and  got  up  and  tried 
again,  but  never  until  now  have  I  felt  that  I  could  really 
'fly  to  the  uttermost  parts  of  the  earth/  There  is  a  rising 
power  in  me  that  should  benefit  more  than  myself.  I 
guess  I'll  just  join  in." 

She  walked  into  the  church  as  the  last  word  of  the  song 
the  congregation  were  singing  was  finished,  and  the  min- 
ister was  opening  his  lips  to  say:  "Let  us  pray." 
Straight  down  the  aisle  came  Kate,  her  bare,  gold  head 
crowned  with  a  flash  of  light  at  each  window  she  passed. 
She  paused  at  the  altar,  directly  facing  the  minister. 

"Baby  and  I  would  like  the  privilege  of  praising  the 
Lord  with  you,"  she  said  simply,  "and  we  would  like  to 
do  our  share  in  keeping  up  this  church  and  congregation 
to  His  honour  and  glory.  There's  some  water.  Can't 
you  baptize  us  now?" 

The  minister  turned  to  the  pitcher,  which  always  stood 
on  his  desk,  filled  his  palm,  and  asked:  "What  is  the 
baby's  name?" 

"Katherine  Eleanor  Peters,"  said  Kate. 


ONE  MORE  FOR  KATE  433 

"Katherine  Eleanor,  I  baptize  thee,"  said  the  minister, 
and  he  laid  his  hand  on  the  soft  curls  of  the  baby.  She 
scattered  the  flowers  she  was  holding  over  the  altar  as  she 
reached  to  spat  her  hands  in  the  water  on  her  head  and 
laughed  aloud. 

"What  is  your  name?"  said  the  minister. 

"Katherine  Eleanor  Holt,"  said  Kate. 

Again  the  minister  repeated  the  formula,  and  then  he 
raised  both  hands  and  said:     "Let  us  pray." 


CHAPTER   XXVI 
The  Winged  Victory 

KATE  turned  and  placing  the  baby  on  the  front 
seat,  she  knelt  and  put  her  arms  around  the 
little  thing,  but  her  lips  only  repeated  the  words: 
"Praise  the  Lord  for  this  precious  baby!"  Her  heart 
was  filled  with  high  resolve.  She  would  rear  the  baby 
with  such  care.  She  would  be  more  careful  with  Adam. 
She  would  make  heroic  effort  to  help  him  to  clean,  un- 
ashamed manhood.  She  would  be  a  better  sister  to  all 
her  family.  She  would  be  friendlier,  and  have  more 
patience  with  the  neighbours.  She  would  join  in  what- 
ever effort  the  church  was  making  to  hold  and  increase 
its  membership  among  the  young  people,  and  to  raise 
funds  to  keep  up  the  organization.  All  the  time  her 
mind  was  busy  thinking  out  these  fine  resolves,  her  lips 
were  thanking  the  Lord  for  Little  Poll.  Kate  arose 
with  the  benediction,  picked  up  the  baby,  and  started 
down  the  aisle  among  the  people  she  had  known  all  her 
life.  On  every  side  strong  hands  stretched  out  to  greet 
and  welcome  her.  A  daughter  of  Adam  Bates  was  some- 
thing new  as  a  church  member.  They  all  knew  how  she 
could  work,  and  what  she  could  give  if  she  chose;  while 
that  she  had  stood  at  the  altar  and  been  baptized,  meant 

434 


THE  WINGED  VICTORY  435 

that  something  not  customary  with  the  Bates  family 
was  taking  place  in  her  heart.  So  they  welcomed  her, 
and  praised  the  beauty  and  sweetness  of  the  baby  until 
Kate  went  out  into  the  sunshine,  her  face  glowing. 

Slowly  she  walked  home  and  as  she  reached  the  veranda, 
Adam  took  the  baby. 

"Been  to  the  cemetery ?"  he  asked. 

Kate  nodded  and  dropped  into  a  chair. 

"That's  too  far  to  walk  and  carry  this  great  big  woman," 
he  said,  snuggling  his  face  in  the  baby's  neck,  while  she 
patted  his  cheeks  and  pulled  his  hair.  "Why  didn't  you 
tell  me  you  wanted  to  go,  and  let  me  get  out  the  car?" 

Kate  looked  at  him  speculatively. 

"Adam,"  she  said,  "when  I  started  out,  I  meant  only 
to  take  some  flowers  to  Mother  and  Polly.  As  I  came 
around  the  corner  of  the  church  to  take»the  footpath, 
they  were  singing  'Rejoice  in  the  Lord!'  I  went  inside 
and  joined.  I'm  going  to  church  as  often  as  I  can  after 
this,  and  I'm  going  to  help  with  the  work  of  running  it." 

"Well,  I  like  that!"  cried  Adam,  indignantly.  "Why 
didn't  you  let  me  go  with  you?" 

Kate  sat  staring  down  the  road.  She  was  shocked 
speechless.  Again  she  had  followed  an  impulse,  with- 
out thinking  of  any  one  besides  herself.  Usually  she 
could  talk,  but  in  that  instant  she  had  nothing  to  say. 
Then  a  carriage  drew  into  the  line  of  her  vision,  stopped 
at  York's  gate,  and  Mr.  York  alighted  and  swung  to 
the  ground  a  slim  girlish  figure  and  then  helped  his  wife. 
Kate  had  a  sudden  inspiration.      "But  you  would  want  to 


436  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

wait  a  little  and  join  with  Milly,  wouldn't  you?"  she 
asked.  "Uncle  Robert  always  has  been  a  church  member. 
I  think  it's  a  fine  stand  for  a  man  to  take." 

"Maybe  that  would  be  better,"  he  said.  "I  didn't 
think  of  Milly.  I  only  thought  I'd  like  to  have  been  with 
you  and  Little  Poll." 

"I'm  sure  Milly  will  be  joining  very  soon,  and  that 
she'll  want  you  with  her,"  said  Kate. 

She  was  a  very  substantial  woman,  but  for  the  re- 
mainder of  that  day  she  felt  that  she  was  moving  with 
winged  feet.  She  sang,  she  laughed,  she  was  unspeakably 
happy.  She  kept  saying  over  and  over:  "And  a  little 
child  shall  lead  them."  Then  she  would  catch  Little 
Poll,  almost  crushing  her  in  her  strong  arms.  It  never 
occurred  to  Kate  that  she  had  done  an  unprecedented 
thing.  She  had  done  as  her  heart  dictated.  She  did 
not  know  that  she  put  the  minister  into  a  most  un- 
comfortable position,  when  he  followed  her  request  to 
baptize  her  and  the  child.  She  had  never  thought  of 
probations,  and  examinations,  and  catechisms.  She  had 
read  the  Bible,  as  was  the  custom,  every  morning  before 
her  school.  In  that  book,  when  a  man  wanted  to  follow 
Jesus,  he  followed;  Jesus  accepted  him;  and  that  was  all 
there  was  to  it,  with  Kate. 

The  middle  of  the  week  Nancy  Ellen  came  flying  up 
the  walk  on  winged  feet,  herself.  She  carried  photo- 
graphs of  several  small  children,  one  of  them  a  girl  so 
like  Little  Poll  that  she  might  have  been  the  original 
of  the  picture. 


THE  WINGED  VICTORY  437 

"They  just  came,"  said  Nancy  Ellen  rather  breath- 
lessly. "I  was  wild  for  that  little  darling  at  once.  I 
had  Robert  telegraph  them  to  hold  her  until  we  could 
get  there.  We're  going  to  start  on  the  evening  train  and 
if  her  blood  seems  good,  and  her  ancestors  respectable, 
and  she  looks  like  that  picture,  we're  going  to  bring  her 
back  with  us.  Oh,  Kate,  I  can  scarcely  wait  to  get  my 
fingers  on  her.    I'm  hungry  for  a  baby  all  of  my  own." 

Kate  studied  the  picture. 

"She's  charming!"  she  said.  "Oh,  Nancy  Ellen,  this 
world  is  getting  entirely  too  good  to  be  true." 

Nancy   Ellen   looked   at   Kate   and   smiled   peculiarly. 

"I  knew  you  were  crazy,"  she  said,  "but  I  never  dreamed 
of  you  going  such  lengths.  Mrs.  Whistler  told  Robert, 
when  she  called  him  in  about  her  side,  Tuesday.  I  can't 
imagine  a  Bates  joining  church." 

"If  that  is  joining  church,  it's  the  easiest  thing  in  the 
world,"  said  Kate.  "We  just  loved  doing  it,  didn't  we, 
Little  Poll  ?  Adam  and  Miliy  are  going  to  come  in  soon, 
I'm  almost  sure.  At  least  he  is  willing.  I  don't  know 
what  it  is  that  I  am  to  do,  but  I  suppose  they  will  give 
me  my  work  soon." 

"You  bet  they'll  give  you  work  soon,  and  enough,"  said 
Nancy  Ellen,  laughing.  "But  you  won't  mind.  You'll 
just  put  it  through,  as  you  do  things  out  here.  Kate, 
you  are  making  this  place  look  fine.  I  used  to  say  I'd 
rather  die  than  come  back  here  to  live,  but  lately  it  has 
been  growing  so  attractive,  I've  been  here  about  half  my 
time,  and  wished  I  were  the  other  half." 


438  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

Kate  slipped  her  arm  around  Nancy  Ellen  as  they 
walked  to  the  gate. 

"You  know,"  said  Nancy  Ellen,  "the  more  I  study  you, 
the  less  I  know  about  you.  Usually  it's  sickness,  and 
sorrow,  and  losing  their  friends  that  bring  people  to  the 
consolations  of  the  church.  You  bore  those  things  like  a 
stoic.  When  they  are  all  over,  and  you  are  comfortable  and 
happy,  just  the  joy  of  being  sure  of  Little  Poll  has  trans- 
formed you.  Kate,'  you  make  me  think  of  the  'Winged 
Victory,'  this  afternoon.  If  I  get  this  darling  little  girl,  will 
she  make  me  big,  and  splendid,  and  fine,  like  you?'* 

Kate  suddenly  drew  Nancy  Ellen  to  her  and  kissed  her 
a  long,  hard  kiss  on  the  dips. 

"Nancy  Ellen,"  she  said,  "you  are  'big,  and  splendid, 
and  fine,'  or  you  never  would  be  going  to  Chicago  after 
this  little  motherless  child.  You  haven't  said  a  word, 
but  I  know  from  the  joy  of  you  and  Robert  during  the 
past  months  that  Mrs.  Southey  isn't  troubling  you  any 
more;  and  I'm  sure  enough  to* put  it  into  words  that 
when  you  get  your  little  child,  she  will  lead  you  straight 
where  mine  has  led  me.  Good-bye  antl  good  luck  to  you, 
and  remember  me  to  Robert." 

Nancy  Ellen  stood  intently  studying  the  picture 
she  held  in  her  hand.  Then  she  looked  at  Kate,  smiling 
with  misty  eyes:  "I  think,  Kate,  I'm  very  close,  if  I  am  not 
really  where  you  are  this  minute,"  she  said.  Then  she 
started  her  car;  but  she  looked  back,  waving  and  smiling 
until  the  car  swerved  so  that  Kate  called  after  her:  "Do 
drive  carefully,  Nancy  Ellen!" 


THE  WINGED  VICTORY  439 

Kate  went  slowly  up  the  walk.  She  stopped  several 
times  to  examine  the  shrubs  and  bushes  closely,  to  wish 
for  rain  for  the  flowers.  She  sat  on  the  porch  a  few 
minutes  talking  to  Little  Poll,  then  she  went  inside  to 
answer  the  phone. 

"Kate?"  cried  a  sharp  voice. 

"Yes,"  said  Kate,  recognizing  a  neighbour,  living  a 
few  miles  down  the  road. 

"Did  Nancy  Ellen  just  leave  your  house?"  came  a 
breathless  query. 

"Yes,"  said  Kate  again. 

"I  just  saw  a  car  that  looked  like  hers  slip  in  the  fresh 
sand  at  the  river  levee,  and  it  went  down,  and  two  or  three 
times  over." 

"O  God!"  said  Kate.  Then  after  an  instant:  "Ring 
the  dinner  bell  for  your  men  to  get  her  out.  I'll  phone 
Robert,  and  come  as  soon  as  I  can  get  there." 

Kate  called  Dr.  Gray's  office.  She  said  to  the  girl: 
"Tell  the  doctor  that  Mrs.  Howe  thinks  she  saw  Nancy 
Ellen's  car  go  down  the  river  levee,  and  two  or  three 
times  over.  Have  him  bring  what  he  might  need  to 
Howe's,  and  hurry.     Rush  him!" 

Then  she  ran  to  her  bell  and  rang  so  frantically 
that  Adam  came  running.  Kate  was  at  the  little  garage 
^hey  had  built,  and  had  the  door  open.  She  told 
him  what  she  had  heard,  ran  to  get  the  baby,  and 
met  him  at  the  gate.  On  the  way  she  said ,  "You  take 
the  baby  when  we  get  there,  and  if  I'm  needed,  take  her 
back  and  get  Milly  and  her  mother  to  come  stay  with  you. 


440  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

You  know  where  her  things  are,  and  how  to  feed  her. 
Don't  you  dare  let  them  change  any  way  I  do.  Baby 
knows  Milly;  she  will  be  good  for  her  and  for  you.  You'll 
be  careful?" 

"Of  course,  Mother,"  said  Adam. 

He  called  her  attention  to  the  road. 

"Look  at  those  tracks,"  he  said.  "Was  she  sick? 
She  might  have  been  drunk,  from  them." 

"No,"  said  Kate,  "she  wasn't  sick.  She  was  drunk, 
drunken  with  joy.  She  had  a  picture  of  the  most  beauti- 
ful little  baby  girl.  They  were  to  start  to  Chicago 
after  her  to-night.  I  suspect  she  was  driving  with  the 
picture  in  one  hand.     Oh,  my  God,  have  mercy!" 

They  had  come  to  deep  grooves  in  loose  gravel,  then 
the  cut  in  the  embankment,  then  they  could  see  the 
wrecked  car  standing  on  the  engine  and  lying  against 
a  big  tree,  near  the  water,  while  two  men  and  a  woman 
were  carrying  a  limp  form  across  the  meadow  toward  the 
house.  As  their  car  stopped,  Kate  kissed  the  baby 
mechanically,  handed  her  to  Adam,  and  ran  into  the 
house  where  she  dragged  a  couch  to  the  middle  of  the 
first  room  she  entered,  found  a  pillow,  and  brought  a 
bucket  of  water  and  a  towel  from  the  kitchen.  They 
carried  Nancy  Ellen  in  and  laid  her  down.  Kate  began 
unfastening  clothing  and  trying  to  get  the  broken  body 
in  shape  for  the  doctor  to  work  upon;  but  she  spread  the 
towel  over  what  had  been  a  face  of  unusual  beauty. 
Robert  came  in  a  few  minutes,  then  all  of  them  worked 
under  his  directions  until  he  suddenly  sank  to  the  floor. 


THE  WINGED  VICTORY  441 

burying  his  face  in  Nancy  Ellen's  breast;  then  they 
knew.  Kate  gathered  her  sister's  feet  in  her  arms  and 
hid  her  face  beside  them.  The  neighbours  silently  began 
taking  away  things  that  had  been  used,  while  Mrs.  Howe 
chose  her  whitest  sheet,  and  laid  it  on  a  chair  near  Robert* 

Two  days  later  they  laid  Nancy  Ellen  beside  her 
mother.  Then  they  began  trying  to  face  the  problem  of 
life  without  her.  Robert  said  nothing.  He  seemed  too 
stunned  to  think.  Kate  wanted  to  tell  him  of  her  final 
visit  with  Nancy  Ellen,  but  she  could  not  at  that  time. 
Robert's  aged  mother  came  to  him,  and  said  she  could 
remain  as  long  as  he  wanted  her,  so  that  was  a  comfort  to 
Kate,  who  took  time  to  pity  him,  even  in  her  blackest  hour. 
She  had  some  very  black  ones.  She  could  have  wailed, 
and  lamented,  and  relinquished  all  she  had  gained,  but  she 
did  not.  She  merely  went  on  with  life,  as  she  always 
had  lived  it,  to  the  best  of  her  ability  when  she  was  so 
numbed  with  grief  she  scarcely  knew  what  she  was  doing. 
She  kept  herself  driven  about  the  house,  and  when  she 
could  find  no  more  to  do,  took  Little  Poll  in  her  arms  and 
went  out  in  the  fields  to  Adam,  where  she  found  the  baby 
a  safe  place,  and  then  cut  and  husked  corn  as  usual. 
Every  Sabbath,  and  often  during  the  week,  her  feet  carried 
her  to  the  cemetery,  where  she  sat  in  the  deep  grass  and 
looked  at  those  three-  long  mounds  and  tried  to  under- 
stand life;  deeper  still,,  to  "fathom  death. 

She  and  her  mother  had  agreed  that  there  was  "some- 
thing." Now  Kate  tried  as  never  before  to  understand 
what,   and    where,    and    why,    that    "something"   was. 


442  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

Many  days  she  would  sit  for  an  hour  at  a  time,  thinking, 
and  at  last  she  arrived  at  fixed  convictions  that  settled 
matters  forever  with  her.  One  day  after  she  had  ar- 
ranged the  fall  roses  she  had  grown,  and  so^e  roadside 
asters  she  had  gathered  in  passing, she  sat  in  deep  thought, 
when  a  car  stopped  on  the  road.  Kate  looked  up  to  see 
Robert  coming  across  the  churchyard  with  his  arms  full 
of  greenhouse  roses.  He  carried  a  big  bunch  of  deep  red 
for  her  mother,  white  for  Polly,  and  a  large  sheaf  of  warm 
pink  for  Nancy  Ellen.  Kate  knelt  up  and  taking  her 
flowers,  she  moved  them  lower,  and  silently  helped 
Robert  place  those  he  had  brought.  Then  she  sat  where 
she  had  been,  and  looked  at  him. 

Finally  he  asked:     "Still  hunting  the  'why,'  Kate?" 

"'Why'  doesn't  so  much  matter,"  said  Kate,  "as 
'where.'  I'm  enough  of^a  fatalist  to  believe  that  Mother 
is  here  because  she  was  old  and  worn  out.  Polly  had  a 
clear  case  of  uric  poison^  while  I'd  stake  my  life  Nancy 
Ellen  was  gloating  over  the  picture  she  carried  when  she 
ran  into  that  loose  sand.  In  each  of  their  cases  I  am 
satisfied  as  to  'why,'  as  well  as  about  Father.  The 
thing  that  holds  me,  and  fascinates  me,  and  that  I  have 
such  a  time  being  sure  of,  is  'where.'" 

Robert  glanced  upward  and  asked:  "Isit't  there  room 
enough  up  there,   Kate?" 

"Too  much!"  said  Kate.  "And  what  is  the  soul,  and 
how  can  it  bridge  the  vortex  lying  between  us  and  other 
worlds,  that  man  never  can,  because  of  the  lack  of  air  to 
breathe,  and  support  him?" 


THE  WINGED  VICTORY  443 

"I  don't  know,"  said  Robert;  "and  in  spite  of  the  fact 
that  I  do  know  what  a  man  cannot  do,  I  still  believe  in  the 
immortality  of  the  soul." 

"Oh,  yes,"  said  Kate.  "If  there  is  any  such  thing  in 
science  as  a  self-evident  fact,  that  is  one.  That  is  prov- 
able." 

Robert  looked  at  her  eager  face.  "How  would  you  go 
about  proving  it,  Kate?"  he  asked. 

"Why,  this  way,"  said  Kate,  leaning  to  straighten  and 
arrange  the  delicate  velvet  petalled  roses  with  her  sure, 
work-abused  fingers.  "Take  the  history  of  the  world 
from  as  near  dawn  as  we  have  any  record,  and  trace  it 
from  the  igloo  of  the  northernmost  Esquimo,  around  the 
globe,  and  down  to  the  ice  of  the  southern  pole  again, 
and  in  blackest  Africa,  farthest,  wildest  Borneo,  you  will 
never  discover  one  single  tribe  of  creatures,  upright  and 
belonging  to  the  race  of  man,  who  did  not  come  into  the 
world  with  four  primal  instincts.  They  all  reproduce 
themselves,  they  all  make  something  intended  for  music, 
they  all  express  a  feeling  in  their  hearts  by  the  exercise 
we  call  dance,  they  all  believe  in  the  after  life  of  the  soul. 
This  belief  is  as  much  a  part  of  any  man,  ever  born  in  any 
location,  as  his  hands  and  his  feet.  Whether  he  believes 
his  soul  enters  a  cat  and  works  back  to  man  again  after 
long  transmigration,  or  goes  to  a  Happy  Hunting  Ground 
as  our  Indians,  makes  no  difference  with  the  fact  that  he 
enters  this  world  with  belief  in  after  life  of  some  kind. 
We  see  material  evidence  in  increase  that  man  is  not 
defeated   in   his   desire   to   reproduce   himself;  we  have 


444  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

advanced  to  something  better  than  tom-toms  and  pow- 
wows for  music  and  dance;  these  desires  are  fulfilled 
before  us,  now  tell  me  why  the  very  strongest  of  all, 
the  most  deeply  rooted,  the  belief  in  after  life,  should 
come  to  nothing.  Why  should  the  others  be  real,  and 
that  a  dream? 

"I  don't  thin^  it  is,"  said  Robert. 

"It's  my  biggest  self-evident  fact,"  said  Kate,  con- 
clusively. "I  never  heard  any  one  else  say  these  things, 
but  I  think  them,  and  they  are  provable.  I  always 
believed  there  was  something;  but  since  I  saw  Mother 
go,  I  know  there  is.  She  stood  in  full  evening  light, 
I  looked  straight  in  her  face,  and  Robert,  you  know 
I'm  no  creature  of  fancies  and  delusions,  I  tell  you 
I  saw  her  soul  pass.  I  saw  the  life  go  from  her  and  go 
on,  and  on.  I  saw  her  body  stand  erect,  long  enough  for 
me  to  reach  her,  and  pick  her  up,  after  its  passing.  That 
I  know." 

"I  shouldn't  think  of  questioning  it,  Kate,"  said  Robert. 
"But  don't  you  think  you  are  rather  limiting  man,  when 
you  narrow  him  to  four  primal  instincts?" 

"Oh,  I  don't  know,"  said  Kate.  "Air  to  breathe  and 
food  to  sustain  are  presupposed.  Man  learns  to  fight  in 
self-defense,  and  to  acquire  what  he  covets.  He  learns 
to  covet  by  seeing  stronger  men,  in  better  locations,  surpass 
his  achievements,  so  if  he  is  strong  enough  he  goes  and 
robs  them  by  force.  He  learns  the  desire  for  the  chase 
in  food  hunting:  no,  I  think  four  are  plenty  to  start 
with." 


THE  WINGED  VICTORY  445 

"Probably  you  are  right,"  said  the  doctor,  rising.  "I 
must  go  now.    Shall  I  take  you  home?" 

Kate  glanced  at  the  sun  and  shook  her  head.  "I  can 
stay  half  an  hour  longer.  I  don't  mind  the  walk.  I 
need  exercise  to  keep  me  in  condition.     Good-bye!" 

As  he  started  his  car  he  glanced  back.  She  was  leaning 
over  the  flowers  absorbed  in  their  beauty.  Kate  sat 
looking  straight  before  her  until  time  to  help  with  the 
evening  work,  and  prepare  supper,  then  she  arose.  She 
stood  looking  down  a  long  time;  finally  she  picked  up  a 
fine  specimen  of  each  of  the  roses  and  slowly  dropped 
them  on  her  father's  grave. 

"There!  You  may  have  that  many,"  she  said.  "You 
look  a  little  too  lonely,  lying  here  beside  the  others  with 
not  a  single  one,  but  if  you  could  speak,  I  wonder  whether 
you  would  say,  'Thank  you!'  or  'Take  the  damn  weeds 
off  me!'" 


CHAPTER  XXVII 
Blue  Ribbon  Corn 

NEVER  in  her  life  had  Kate  worked  harder  than 
she  did  that  fall;  but  she  retained  her  splendid 
health.  Everything  was  sheltered  and  housed, 
their  implements  under  cover,  their  stock  in  good  con- 
dition, their  store-room  filled,  and  their  fruits  and 
vegetables  buried  in  hills  and  long  rows  in  the  garden. 
Adam  had  a  first  wheat  premium  at  the  County  Fair 
and  a  second  on  corn,  concerning  which  he  felt  abused. 
He  thought  his  corn  scored  the  highest  number  of 
points,  but  that  the  award  was  given  another  man 
because  of  Adam's  having  had  first  on  wheat.  In  her 
heart  Kate  agreed  with  him;  but  she  tried  to  satisfy 
him  with  the  blue  ribbon  on  wheat  and  keep  him  inter- 
ested sufficiently  to  try  for  the  first  on  corn  the  coming 
year.  She  began  making  suggestions  for  the  possible 
improvement  of  his  corn.  Adam  was  not  easily  pro- 
pitiated. 

"Mother,"  he  said,  "you  know  as  well  as  you  know 
you're  alive,  that  if  I  had  failed  on  wheat,  or  had  second, 
I  would  have  been  given  first  on  my  corn;  my  corn  was 
the  best  in  every  way,  but  they  thought  I  would  swell  up 
and  burst  if  I  had  two  blue  ribbons.     That  was  what 

446 


BLUE  RIBBON  CORN  447 

ailed  the  judges.  What  encouragement  is  that  to  try 
again?  I  might  grow  even  finer  corn  the  coming  year 
than  I  did  this,  and  be  given  no  award  at  all,  because 
I  had  two  this  year.  It  would  amount  to  exactly  the 
same  thing." 

"We'll  get  some  more  books,  and  see  if  we  can  study 
up  any  new  wrinkles,  this  winter,"  said  Kate.  "Now 
cheer  up,  and  go  tell  Milly  about  it.  Maybe  she  can 
console  you,  if  I  can't." 

"Nothing  but  justice  will  consoleme,"  said  Adam.  "I'm 
not  complaining  about  losing  the  prize;  I'm  fighting  mad 
because  my  corn,  my  beautiful  corn,  that  grew  and  grew, 
and  held  its  head  so  high,  and  waved  its  banners  of 
triumph  to  me  with  every  breeze,  didn't  get  its  fair  show. 
What  encouragement  is  there  for  it  to  try  to  do  better  the 
coming  year?  The  crows  might  as  well  have  had  it,  or 
the  cutworms;  while  all  my  work  is  for  nothing." 

"You're  making  a  big  mistake,"  said  Kate.  "If  your 
corn  was  the  finest,  it  was,  and  the  judges  knew  it,  and 
you  know  it,  and  very  likely  the  man  who  has  the  first 
prize,  knows  it.  You  have  a  clean  conscience,  and  you 
know  what  you  know.  They  surely  can't  feel  right  about 
it,  or  enjoy  what  they  know.  You  have  had  the  ex- 
perience, you  have  the  corn  for  seed;  with  these  things 
to  back  you,  clear  a  small  strip  of  new  land  beside  the 
woods  this  winter,  and  try  what  that  will  do  for  you." 

Adam  looked  at  her  with  wide  eyes.  "  By  jing,  Mother, 
you  are  a  dandy!"  he  said.  "You  just  bet  I'll  try  that 
next  year,  but  don't  you  tell  a  soul;  there  are  more  than 


448  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

you  who  will  let  a  strip  be  cleared,  in  an  effort  to  grow 
blue  ribbon  corn.     How  did  you  come  to  think  of  it?" 

"Your  saying  all  your  work  had  been  for  nothing, 
made  me  think  of  it,"  she  answered.  "Let  them  give 
another  man  the  prize,  when  they  know  your  corn  is  the 
best.  It's  their  way  of  keeping  a  larger  number  of  people 
interested  and  avoiding  the  appearance  of  partiality;  this 
contest  was  too  close;  next  year,  you  grow  such  corn,  that 
the  corn  will  force  the  decision  in  spite  of  the  judges.  Do 
you  see?" 

"I  see,"  said  Adam.     "I'll  try  again." 

After  that  life  went  on  as  usual.  The  annual  Christmas 
party  was  the  loveliest  of  all,  because  Kate  gave  it  loving 
thought,  and  because  all  of  their  hearts  were  especially 
touched.  As  spring  came  on  again,  Kate  and  Adam 
studied  over  their  work,  planning  many  changes  for  the 
better,  but  each  time  they  talked,  when  everything  else 
was  arranged,  they  came  back  to  corn.  More  than  once, 
each  of  them  dreamed  corn  that  winter  while  asleep, 
they  frankly  talked  of  it  many  times  a  day.  Location, 
soil,  fertilizers,  seed,  cultivation — they  even  studied  the 
almanacs  for  a  general  forecast  of  the  weather.  These 
things  brought  them  very  close  together.  Also  it  was 
admitted  between  them,  that  Little  Poll  "grappled  them 
with  hooks  of  steel."  They  never  lacked  subjects  for 
conversation.  Poll  always  came  first,  corn  next,  and 
during  the  winter  there  began  to  be  discussion  of  plans 
for  Adam  and  Milly.  Should  Milly  come  with  them,  or 
should  the}-  build  a  small  house  on  the  end  of  the  farm 


BLUE  RIBBON  CORN  449 

nearest  her  mother?  Adam  did  not  care,  so  he  married 
Milly  speedily.  Kate  could  not  make  up  her  mind. 
Milly  had  the  inclination  of  a  bird  for  a  personal  and 
private  nest  of  her  own.     So  spring  came  to  them. 

August  brought  the  anniversary  of  Nancy  Ellen's  death, 
which  again  saddened  all  of  them.  Then  came  cooler 
September  weather,  and  the  usual  rush  of  preparation 
for  winter.  Kate  was  everywhere  and  enjoying  her 
work  immensely.  On  sturdy,  tumbly  legs  Little  Poll 
trotted  after  her  or  rode  in  state  on  her  shoulder,  when 
distances  were  too  far.  If  Kate  took  her  to  the  fields, 
as  she  did  every  day,  she  carried  along  the  half  of  an 
old  pink  and  white  quilt,  which  she  spread  in  a  shaded 
place  and  filled  the  baby's  lap  with  acorns,  wild  flowers, 
small  brightly  coloured  stones,  shells,  and  whatever  she 
could  pick  up  for  playthings.  Poll  amused  herself  with 
these  until  the  heat  and  air  made  her  sleepy,  then  she 
laid  herself  down  and  slept  for  an  hour  or  two.  Once 
she  had  trouble  with  stomach  teeth  that  brought  Dr. 
Gray  racing,  and  left  Kate  white  and  limp  with  fear. 
Everything  else  had  gone  finely  and  among  helping 
Adam,  working  in  her  home,  caring  for  the  baby,  doing 
whatever  she  could  see  that  she  thought  would  be  of 
benefit  to  the  community,  and  what  was  assigned  her 
by  church  committees,  Kate  had  a  busy  life.  She  had 
earned,  in  a  degree,  the  leadership  she  exercised  in  her 
first  days  in  Walden.  Everyone  liked  her;  but  no  one 
ever  ventured  to  ask  her  for  an  opinion  unless  they  truly 
wanted  it. 


45o  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

Adam  came  from  a  run  to  Hartley  for  groceries  one 
evening  in  late  September,  with  a  look  of  concern  that 
Kate  noticed  on  his  face.  He  was  very  silent  during 
supper  and  when  they  were  on  the  porch  as  usual,  he 
still  sat  as  if  thinking  deeply.  Kate  knew  that  he  would 
tell  her  what  he  was  thinking  about  when  he  was  ready 
but  she  was  not  in  the  least  prepared  for  what  he  said. 

"Mother,  how  do  you  feel  about  Uncle  Robert  marrying 
again?"  he  asked  suddenly. 

Kate  was  too  surprised  to  answer.  She  looked  at  him 
in  amazement.  Instead  of  answering,  she  asked  him  a 
question:     "What  makes  you  ask  that?" 

"You  know  how  that  Mrs.  Southey  pursued  him 
one  summer.  Well,  she's  back  in  Hartley,  staying  at 
the  hotel  right  across  from  his  office;  she's  dressed  to  beat 
the  band,  she's  pretty  as  a  picture;  her  car  stands  out 
in  front  all  day,  and  to  get  to  ride  in  it,  and  take  meals 
with  her,  all  the  women  are  running  after  her.  I  hear 
she  has  even  had  Robert's  old  mother  out  for  a  drive. 
What  do  you  think  of  that?" 

"Think  she's  in  love  with  him,  of  course,  and  trying 
to  marry  him,  and  that  she  will  very  probably  succeed. 
If  she  has  located  where  she  is  right  under  his  eye,  and 
lets  him  know  that  she  wants  him  very  much,  he'll,  no 
doubt,  marry  her." 

"But  what  do  you  think  about  it?"  asked  Adam. 

"I've  had  no  time  to  think,"  said  Kate.  "At  first 
blush,  I'd  say  that  I  shall  hate  it,  as  badly  as  I  could 
possibly  hate  anything  that  was  none  of  my  immediate 


BLUE  RIBBON  CORN  451 

business.  Nancy  Ellen  loved  him  so.  I  never  shall 
forget  that  day  she  first  told  me  about  him,  and  how 
loving  him  brought  out  her  beauty,  and  made  her  shine 
and  glow  as  if  from  an  inner  light.  I  was  always  with  her 
most,  and  I  loved  her  more  than  all  the  other  girls  put 
together.  I  know  that  Southey  woman  tried  to  take 
him  from  her  one  summer  not  long  ago,  and  that  he  gave 
her  to  understand  that  she  could  not,  so  she  went  away. 
If  she's  back,  it  means  only  one  thing,  and  I  think  prob- 
ably she'll  succeed;  but  you  can  be  sure  it  will  make  me 
squirm  properly." 

"I  thought  you  wouldn't  like  it,"  he  said  emphatically. 

"Now  understand  me,  Adam,"  said  Kate.  "I'm  no 
fool.  I  didn't  expect  Robert  to  be  more  than  human. 
He  has  no  children,  and  he'd  like  a  child  above  anything 
else  on  earth.  I've  known  that  for  years,  ever  since  it 
became  apparent  that  none  was  coming  to  Nancy 
Ellen.  I  hadn't  given  the  matter  a  thought,  but  if  I 
had  been  thinking,  I  would  have  thought  that  as  soon 
as  was  proper,  he  would  select  a  strong,  healthy  young 
woman,  and  make  her  his  wife.  I  know  his  mother  is 
homesick,  and  wants  to  go  back  to  her  daughters  and 
their  children,  which  is  natural.  I  haven't  an  objection 
in  the  world  to  him  marrying  a  proper  woman,  at  a  proper 
time  and  place;  but  Oh,  dear  Lord,  I  do  dread  and  despise  to 
see  that  little  Southey  cat  come  back  and  catch  him, 
because  she  knows  how." 

"Did  you  ever  see  her,  Mother?"  he  asked. 

"No,  I  never,"  said  Kate,  "and  I  hope  I  never  shall. 


452  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

I  know  what  Nancy  Ellen  felt,  because  she  told  me  all 
about  it  that  time  we  were  up  North.  I'm  trying  with 
all  my  might  to  have  a  Christian  spirit.  I  swallowed 
Mrs.  Peters,  and  never  blinked,  that  anybody  saw;  but 
I  don't,  I  truly  don't  know  from  where  I  could  muster 
grace  to  treat  a  woman  decently,  who  tried  to  do  to  my 
sister,  what  I  know  Mrs.  Southey  tried  to  do  to  Nancy 
Ellen.  She  planned  to  break  up  my  sister's  home;  that  I 
know.  Now  that  Nancy  Ellen  is  gone,  I  feel  to-night 
as  if  I  just  couldn't  endure  to  see  Mrs.  Southey  marry 
Robert." 

"Bet  she  does  it!"  said  Adam. 

"Did  you  see  her?"  asked  Kate. 

"See  her!"  cried  Adam.  "I  saw  her  half  a  dozen 
times  in  an  hour.  She's  in  the  heart  of  the  town,  nothing 
to  do  but  dress  and  motor.  Never  saw  such  a  peach  of 
a  car.  I  couldn't  help  looking  at  it.  Gee,  I  wish  I  could 
get  you  one  like  that!" 

"What  did  you  think  of  her  looks?"  asked  Kate. 

"Mighty  pretty!"  said  Adam,  promptly.  "Small,  but 
not  tiny;  plump,  but  not  fat;  pink,  light  curls,  big  baby 
blue  eyes  and  a  sort  of  hesitating  way  about  her,  as  if 
she  were  anxious  to  do  the  right  thing,  but  feared  she 
might  not,  and  wished  somebody  would  take  care  of  her." 

Kate  threw  out  her  hands  with  a  rough  exclamation. 
"I  get  the  picture!"  she  said.  "It's  a  dead  centre  shot. 
That  gets  a  man,  every  time.  No  man  cares  a  picayune 
about  a  woman  who  can  take  care  of  herself,  and  help 
him  with  his  job  if  he  has  the  ghost  of  a  chance  at  a 


BLUE  RIBBON  CORN  453 

little  pink  and  white  dinger,  who  will  suck  the  life  and 
talent  out.  of  him,  like  the  parasite  she  is,  while  she  makes 
him  believe  he  is  on  the  job,  taking  care  of  her.  You  can 
rest  assured  it  will  be  settled  before  Christmas." 

Kate  had  been  right  in  her  theories  concerning  the 
growing  of  blue  ribbon  corn.  At  the  County  Fair  in  late 
September  Adam  exhibited  such  heavy  ears  of  evenly 
grained  white  and  yellow  corn  that  the  blue  ribbon  he 
carried  home  was  not  an  award  of  the  judges;  it  was  a 
concession  to  the  just  demands  of  the  exhibit. 

Then  they  began  husking  their  annual  crop.  It  had  been 
one  of  the  country's  best  years  for  corn.  The  long,  even, 
golden  ears  they  were  stripping  the  husks  from  and  stack- 
ing in  heaps  over  the  field  might  profitably  have  been 
used  for  seed  by  any  farmer.  They  had  divided  the 
field  in  halves  and  Adam  was  husking  one  side,  Kate 
the  other.  She  had  a  big  shock  open  and  kneeling  beside 
it  she  was  busy  stripping  open  the  husks,  and  heaping  up 
the  yellow  ears.  Behind  her  the  shocks  stood  like  rows  of 
stationed  sentinels;  above,  the  crisp  October  sunshine 
warmed  the  air  to  a  delightful  degree;  around  the  field, 
the  fence  rows  were  filled  with  purple  and  rose  coloured 
asters,  and  everywhere  goldenrod,  yellower  than  the 
corn,  was  hanging  in  heavy  heads  of  pollen-spraying 
bloom. 

On  her  old  pink  quilt  Little  Poll,  sound  ac!eep,  was  lifted 
from  the  shade  of  one  shock  to  another,  while  Kate  worked 
across  her  share  of  the  field.  As  she  worked  she  kept  look- 
ing at  the  child.     She  frankly  adored  her,  but  she  kept  her 


454  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

I 

reason  and  held  to  rigid  rules  in  feeding,  bathing,  and  dress- 
ing.    Poll  minded  even  a  gesture  or  a  nod. 

Above,  the  flocking  larks  pierced  the  air  with  silver 
notes,  on  the  fence-rows  the  gathering  robins  called  to 
each  other;  high  in  the  air  the  old  black  vulture  that 
homed  in  a  hollow  log  in  Kate's  woods,  looked  down  on 
the  spots  of  colour  made  by  the  pink  quilt,  the  gold  corn, 
the  blue  of  Kate's  dress,  and  her  yellow  head.  An 
artist  would  have  paused  long,  over  the  rich  colour,  the 
grouping  and  perspective  of  that  picture,  while  the  hazy 
fall  atmosphere  softened  and  blended  the  whole.  Kate, 
herself,  never  had  appeared  or  felt  better.  She  worked 
rapidly,  often  glancing  across  the  field  to  see  if  she  was 
even  with,  or  slightly  in  advance  of  Adam.  She  said  it 
would  never  do  to  let  the  boy  get  "heady,"  so  she  made 
a  point  of  keeping  even  with  him,  and  caring  for  Little 
Poll,  "for  good  measure." 

I  She  was  smiling  as  she  watched  him  working  like  a 
machine  as  he  ripped  open  husks,  gave  the  ear  a  twist, 
tossed  it  aside,  and  reached  for  the  next.  Kate  was  doing 
the  same  thing,  quite  as  automatically.  She  was  begin- 
ning to  find  the  afternoon  sun  almost  hot  on  her  bare 
head,  so  she  turned  until  it  fell  on  her  back.  Her  face 
was  flushed  to  coral  pink,  and  framed  in  a  loose  border  of 
her  beautiful  hair.  She  was  smiling  at  the  thought  of 
how  Adam  was  working  to  get  ahead  of  her,  smiling  be- 
cause Little  Poll  looked  such  a  picture  of  healthy  love- 
liness, smiling  because  she  was  so  well,  she  felt  super- 
abundant  health   rising  like   a   stimulating  tide  in   her 


BLUE  RIBBON  CORN  455 

body,  smiling  because  the  corn  was  the  finest  she  ever  had 
seen  in  a  commonly  cultivated  field,  smiling  because  she 
and  Adam  were  of  one  accord  about  everything,  smiling 
because  the  day  was  very  beautiful,  because  her  heart 
was  at  peace,  her  conscience  clear. 

She  heard  a  car  stop  at  her  gate,  saw  a  man  alight  and 
start  across  the  yard  toward  the  field,  and  knew  that  her 
visitor  had  seen  her,  and  was  coming  to  her.  Kate  went 
on  husking  corn  and  when  the  man  swung  over  the  fence 
of  the  field  she  saw  that  he  was  Robert,  and  instantly 
thought  of  Mrs.  Southey,  so  she  ceased  to  smile.  "I've 
got  a  big  notion  to  teli  him  what  I  think  of  him,"  she 
said  to  herself,  even  as  she  looked  up  to  greet  him.  In- 
stantly she  saw  that  he  had  come  for  something. 

"What  is  it?"  she  asked. 

"Agatha,"  he  said.  "She's  been  having  some  severe 
heart  attacks  lately,  and  she  just  gave  me  a  real  scare." 

Instantly  Kate  forgot  everything,  except  Agatha, 
whom  she  cordially  liked,  and  Robert,  who  appeared  older, 
more  tired,  and  worried  than  she  ever  had  seen  him.  She 
thought  Agatha  had  "given  him  a  real  scare,"  and  then  she 
decided  that  it  scarcely  would  have  been  bad  enough  to 
put  lines  in  his  face  she  never  had  noticed  before,  dark 
circles  under  his  eyes,  a  look  of  weariness  in  his  bearing. 
She  doubted  as  she  looked  at  him  if  he  were  really  court- 
ing Mrs.  Southey.  Even  as  she  thought  of  these  things 
she  was  asking:     "She's  better/now?" 

"Yes,  easier,  but  she  suffered  terribly.  Adam  was 
upset  completely.     Adam,  3d,  and  Susan  and  their  fam- 


456  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

ilies  are  away  from  home  and  won't  be  back  for  a  few 
days  unless  I  send  for  them.  They  went  to  Ohio  to  visit 
some  friends.  I  stopped  to  ask  if  it  would  be  possible  for 
you  to  go  down  this  evening  and  sleep  there,  so  that  if 
there  did  happen  to  be  a  recurrence,  Adam  wouldn't 
be  alone." 

"Of  course,"  said  Kate,  glancing  at  the  baby.  "I'll 
go  right  away!" 

"No  need  for  that,"  he  said,  "if  you'll  arrange  to 
stay  with  Adam  to-night,  as  a  precaution.  You  needn't 
go  till  bed-time.  I'm  going  back  after  supper  to  put 
them  in  shape  for  the  night.  I'm  almost  sure  she'll  be  all 
right  now;  but  you  know  how  frightened  we  can  get  about 
those  we  love." 

"Yes,  I  know,"  said  Kate,  quietly,  going  straight  on 
ripping  open  ear  after  ear  of  corn.  Presently  she  won- 
dered why  he  did  not  go.  She  looked  up  at  him  and 
met  his  eyes.  He  was  studying  her  intently.  Kate 
was  vividly  conscious  in  an  instant  of  her  bare  wind- 
teased  head,  her  husking  gloves;  she  was  not  at  all  sure 
that  her  face  was  clean.  She  smiled  at  him,  and  picking 
up  the  sunbonnet  lying  beside  her,  she  wiped  her  face 
with  the  skirt. 

"If  this  sun  hits  too  long  on  the  same  spot,  it  grows 
warm,"  she  told  him. 

"Kate,  I  do  wish  you  wouldn't!"  he  exclaimed  abruptly. 

Kate  was  too  forthright  for  sparring. 

"Why  not?"  she  asked. 

"  For  one  thing,  you  are  doing  a  man's  work,"  he  said. 


BLUE  RIBBON  CORN  457 

"For  another,  I  hate  to  see  you  burn  the  loveliest  hair 
I  ever  saw  on  the  head  of  a  woman,  and  coarsen  your 
fine  skin." 

Kate  looked  down  at  the  ear  of  corn  she  held  in  her 
hands,  and  considered  an  instant. 

"There  hasn't  any  man  been  around  asking  to  relieve 
me  of  this  work,"  she  said.  "I  got  my  start  in  life  doing 
a  man's  work,  and  I'm  frank  to  say  that  I'd  far  rather 
do  it  any  day,  than  what  is  usually  considered  a  woman's. 
As  for  my  looks,  I  never  set  a  price  on  them  or  let  them 
interfere  with   business,   Robert." 

"No,  I  know  you  don't,"  he  said.  "But  it's  a  pity 
to  spoil  you." 

"I  don't  know  what's  the  matter  with  you,"  said  Kate, 
patiently.  She  bent  her  head  toward  him.  "Feel," 
she  said,  "and  see  if  my  hair  isn't  soft  and  fine.  I 
always  cover  it  in  really  burning  sun;  this  autumn 
haze  is  good  for  it.  My  complexion  is  exactly  as  smooth 
and  even  now,  as  it  was  the  day  I  first  met  you  on  the 
footlog  over  twenty  years  ago.  There's  one  good  thing 
about  the  Bates  women.  They  wear  well.  None  of  us 
yet  have  ever  faded,  and  frazzled  out.  Have  you  got 
many  Hartley  women,  doing  what  you  call  women's 
work,  to  compare  with  me  physically,  Robert?" 

"You  know  the  answer  to  that,"  he  said. 

"So  I  do!"  said  Kate.  "I  see  some  of  them  occasionally, 
when  business  calls  me  that  way.  Now,  Roberta  I'm  so 
well,  I  feel  like  running  a  footrace  the  first  thing  when 
I  wake  up   every   morning.     I'm   making   money,   I'm 


458 


A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 


starting  my  boy  in  a  safe,  useful  life;  have  you  many 
year  and  a  half  babies  in  your  practice  that  can  beat 
Little  Poll?  I'm  as  happy  as  it's  humanly  possible  for 
me  to  be  without  Mother,  and  Polly,  and  Nancy  Ellen- 
Mother  used  always  to  say  that  when  death  struck  a 
family  it  seldom  stopped  until  it  took  three.  That  was 
my  experience,  and  saving  Adam  and  Little  Poll,  it  took  my 
three  dearest;  but  the  separation  isn't  going  to  be  so  very 
long.  If  I  were  you  I  wouldn't  worry  about  me,  Robert. 
There  are  many  women  in  the  world  willing  to  pay  for 
your  consideration;  save  it  for  them." 

"Kate,  I'm  sorry  I  said  anything,"  he  said  hastily. 
"I  wouldn't  offend  you  purposery,  you  know." 

Kate  looked  at  him  in  surprise.  "But  I'm  not  of- 
fended," she  said,  snapping  an  ear  and  reaching  for 
another.  "I  am  merely  telling  you!  Don't  give  me  a 
thought!  I'm  all  right!  If  you'll  save  me  an  hour  the 
next  time  Little  Poll  has  a  tooth  coming  through,  you'll 
have  completely  earned  my  gratitude.  Tell  Agatha  I'll 
come  as  soon  as  I  finish  my  evening  work." 

That  was  clearly  a  dismissal,  for  Kate  glancing 
across  the  field  toward  Adam,  saw  that  he  had  advanced 
to  a  new  shock,  so  she  began  husking  faster  than 
before. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 
The  Eleventh  Hour 

ROBERT  said  good-bye  and  started  back  toward  bis 
car.  Kate  looked  after  him  as  he  reached  the 
i,  fence.  A  surge  of  pity  for  him  swept  up  in  her 
heart.  He  seemed  far  from  happy,  and  he  surely  was  very 
tired.  Impulsive  as  always,  she  lifted  her  clear  voice  and 
called:  "Robert!" 

He  paused  with  his  foot  on  a  rail  of  the  fence,  and 
turned  toward  her. 

"Have  you  had  any  dinner?"  she  asked. 

He  seemed  to  be  considering.  "Come  to  think  of  it, 
I  don't  believe  I  have,"  he  said. 

"I  thought  you  looked  neglected,"  said  Kate.  "Sonny 
across  the  field  is  starting  a  shock  ahead  of  me;  I  can't 
come,  but  go  to  the  kitchen — the  door  is  unlocked — you'll 
find  fried  chicken  and  some  preserves  and  pickles  in  the 
pantry;  the  bread  box  is  right  there,  and  the  milk  and 
butter  are  in  the  spring  house." 

He  gave  Kate  one  long  look.  "Thank  you,"  he  said 
and  leaped  the  fence.  He  stopped  on  the  front  walk  and 
stood  a  minute,  then  he  turned  and  went  around  the  house. 
She  laughed  aloud.  She  was  sending  him  to  chicken  per- 
fectly cooked,  barely  cold,  melon  preserves,  pickled  cucum- 

459 


46o  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

bers,  and  bread  like  that  which  had  for  years  taken  a 
County  Fair  prize  each  fall;  butter  yellow  as  the  goldenrod 
lining  the  fences,  and  cream  stiff  enough  to  stand  alone. 
Also,  he  would  find  neither  germ  nor  mould  in  her  pantry 
and  spring  house,  while  it  would  be  a  new  experience  for  him 
to  let  him  wait  on  himself.  Kate  husked  away  in  high 
good  humour,  but  she  quit  an  hour  early  to  be  on  time  to 
go  to  Agatha.  She  explained  this  to  Adam,  when  she 
told  him  that  he  would  have  to  milk  alone,  while  she 
bathed  and  dressed  herself  and  got  supper. 

When  she  began  to  dress,  Kate  examined  her  hair 
minutely,  and  combed  it  with  unusual  care.  If  Robert 
was  at  Agatha's  when  she  got  there,  she  would  let  him 
see  that  her  hair  was  not  sunburned  and  ruined.  To 
match  the  hair  dressing,  she  reached  back  in  her  closet 
and  took  down  her  second  best  white  dress.  She  was 
hoping  that  Agatha  would  be  well  enough  to  have  a 
short  visit.  Kate  worked  so  steadily  that  she  seldom 
saw  any  of  her  brothers  and  sisters  during  the  summer. 
In  winter  she  spent  a  day  with  each  of  them,  if  she  could 
possibly  manage.  Anyway,  Agatha  would  like  to  see  her 
appearing  well,  so  she  put  on  the  plain  snowy  linen,  and 
carefully  pinning  a  big  apron  over  it,  she  went  to  the 
kitchen.  They  always  had  a  full  dinner  at  noon  and 
worked  until  dusk.  Her  bath  had  made  her  later  than 
she  intended  to  be.  Dusk  was  deepening,  evening  chill 
was  beginning  to  creep  into  the  air.  She  closed  the  door, 
fed  Little  Poll  and  rolled  her  into  bed;  set  the  potatoes 
boiling,   and  began  mixing  the  biscuit.     She  had  them 


THE  ELEVENTH  HOUR  461 

just  ready  to  roll  when  steam  lifted  the  lid  of  the  po- 
tato pot;  with  the  soft  dough  in  her  hand  she  took  a  step  to 
right  it.    While  it  was  in  her  fingers,  she  peered  into  the  pot. 

She  did  not  look  up  on  the  instant  the  door  opened, 
because  she  thought  it  would  be  Adam.  When  she 
glanced  toward  the  door,  she  saw  Robert  standing  looking 
at  her.  He  had  stepped  inside,  closed  the  door,  and  with 
his  hand  on  the  knob  was  waiting  for  her  to  see  him. 

"Oh!  Hello!"  said  Kate.  "I  thought  it  was  Adam. 
Have  you  been  to  Agatha's  yet?" 

"Yes.  She  is  very  much  better,"  he  said.  "I  only 
stopped  to  tell  you  that  her  mother  happened  to  come 
out  for  the  night,  and  they'll  not  need  you." 

"I'm  surely  glad  she  is  better,"  said  Kate,  "but  I'm 
rather  disappointed.  I've  been  swimming,  and  I'm  all 
ready  to  go." 

She  set  the  pot  lid  in  place  accurately  and  gave  her 
left  hand  a  deft  turn  to  save  the  dough  from  dripping. 
She  glanced  from  it  to  Robert,  expecting  to  see  him 
open  the  door  and  disappear.  Instead  he  stood  looking 
at  her  intently.  Suddenly  he  said:  "Kate,  will  you 
marry  me?" 

Kate  mechanically  saved  the  dough  again,  as  she 
looked  at  the  pot  an  instant,  then  she  said  casually: 
"Sure!  It  would  be  splendid  to  have  a  doctor  right  in 
the  house  when  Little  Poll  cuts  her  double  teeth." 

"Thank  you!"  said  Robert,  tersely.  "No  doubt  that 
would  be  a  privilege,  but  I  decline  to  marry  you  in  order 
to  see  Little  Poll  safely  through  teething.    Good-night!" 


462  k         A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

He  stepped  outside  and  closed  the  door  very  completely, 
and  somewhat  pronouncedly. 

Kate  stood  straight  an  instant,  then  realized  biscuit 
dough  was  slowly  creeping  down  her  wrist.  With  a 
quick  fling,  she  shot  the  mass  into  the  scrap  bucket  and 
sinking  on  the  chair  she  sat  on  to  peel  vegetables,  she 
lifted  her  apron,  laid  her  head  on  her  knees,  and  gave  a 
big  gulping  sob  or  two.  Then  she  began  to  cry  silently. 
A  minute  later  the  door  opened  again.  That  time  it 
had  to  be  Adam,  but  Kate  did  not  care  what  he  saw  or 
what  he  thought.    She  cried  on  in  perfect  abandon. 

Then  steps  crossed  the  room,  someone  knelt  beside 
her,  put  an  arm  around  her  and  said:  "Kate,  why  are 
you  crying?" 

Kate  lifted  her  head  suddenly,  and  applied  her  apron 
skirt.  "None  of  your  business,"  she  said  to  Robert's 
face,  six  inches  from  hers. 

"Are  you  so  anxious  as  all  this  about  Little  Poll's 
teeth?"  he  asked. 

"Oh,  drat  Little  Poll's  teeth!"  cried  Kate,  the  tears 
rolling  uninterruptedly. 

"Then  why  did  you  say  that  to  me?"  he  demanded. 

"Well,  you  said  you  'only  stopped  to  tell  me  that  I 
needn't  go  to  Agatha's,'"  she  explained.  "I  had  to  say 
something,  to  get  even  with  you!" 

"Oh,"  said  Robert,  and  took  possession.  Kate  put  her 
arms  around  his  neck,  drew  his  head  against  hers,  and 
knew  a  minute  of  complete  joy. 

When  Adam  entered  the  house  his  mother  was  very 


THE  ELEVENTH  HOUR  463 

busy.  She  was  mixing  more  biscuit  dough,  she  was  laugh- 
ing like  a  girl  of  sixteen,  she  snatched  out  one  of  their  finest 
tablecloths,  and  put  on  many  extra  dishes  for  supper, 
while  Uncle  Robert,  looking  like  a  different  man,  was 
helping  her.  He  was  actually  stirring  the  gravy,  and 
getting  the  water,  and  setting  up  chairs.  And  he  was 
under  high  tension,  too.  He  was  saying  things  of 
no  moment,  as  if  they  were  profound  wisdom,  and 
laughing  hilariously  at  things  that  were  scarcely  worth 
a  smile.  Adam  looked  on,  and  marvelled  and  all  the 
while  his  irritation  grew.  At  last  he  saw  a  glance  of 
understanding  pass  between  them.  He  could  endure  it 
no  longer. 

"Oh,  you  might  as  well  say  what  you  think,"  he  burst 
forth.     "You  forgot  to  pull  down  the  blinds." 

Both  the  brazen  creatures  laughed  as  if  that  were  a  fine 
joke.  They  immediately  threw  off"  all  reserve,  By  the 
time  the  meal  was  finished,  Adam  was  struggling  to  keep 
from  saying  the  meanest  things  he  could  think  of.  Also, 
he  had  to  go  to  Milly,  with  nothing  very  definite  to  tell. 
But  when  he  came  back,  his  mother  was  waiting  for  him. 
She  said  at  once:  "Adam,  I'm  very  sorry  the  blind  was 
up  to-night.  I  wanted  to  talk  to  you,  and  tell  you  my- 
self, that  the  first  real  love  for  a  man  that  I  have  ever 
known,  is  in  my  heart  to-night." 

"Why,  Mother!"  said  Adam. 

"It's  true,"  said  Kate,  quietly.  "You  see  Adam,  the 
first  time  I  ever  saw  Robert  Gray,  I  knew,  and  he  knew, 
that   he   had    made    a   mistake   in   engaging   himself  to 


464  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

Nancy  Ellen;  but  the  thing  was  done,  she  was  happy,  we 
simply  realized  that  we  would  have  done  better  together, 
and  let  it  go  at  that.  But  all  these  years  I  have  known 
that  I  could  have  made  him  a  wife  who  would  have  come 
closer  to  his  ideals  than  my  sister,  and  she  should  have 
had  the  man  who  wanted  to  marry  me.  They  would 
have  had  a  wonderful  time  together." 

"And  where  did  my  father  come  in?"  asked  Adam, 
quietly. 

"He  took  advantage  of  my  blackest  hour,"  said  Kate. 
"I  married  him  when  I  positively  didn't  care  what  hap- 
pened to  me.  The  man  I  could  have  loved  was  married 
to  my  sister,  the  man  I  could  have  married  and  lived 
with  in  comfort  to  both  of  us  was  out  of  the  question; 
it  was  in  the  Bates  blood  to  marry  about  the  time  I 
did;  I  had  seen  only  the  very  best  of  your  father,  and  he 
was  an  attractive  lover,  not  bad  looking,  not  embarrassed 
with  one  single  scruple — it's  the  way  of  the  world.  I 
took  it.  I  paid  for  it.  Only  God  knows  how  dearly  I 
paid;  but  Adam,  if  you  love  me,  stand  by  me  now.  Let 
me  have  this  eleventh  hour  happiness,  with  no  alloy. 
Anything  I  feel  for  your  Uncle  Robert  has  nothing  in 
the  world  to  do  with  my  being  your  mother;  with  you 
being  my  son.    Kiss  me,  and  tell  me  you're  glad,  Adam." 

Adam  rose  up  and  put  his  arms  around  his  mother.  All 
his  resentment  was  gone.  He  was  happy  as  he  could  be 
for  his  mother,  and  happier  than  he  ever  before  had  been 
for  himself. 

The  following  afternoon,  Kate  took  the  car  and  went 


THE  ELEVENTH  HOUR  465 

to  see  Agatha  instead  of  husking  corn.  She  dressed  with 
care  and  arrived  about  three  o'clock,  leading  Poll  in 
whitest  white,  with  cheeks  still  rosy  from  her  afternoon 
nap.  Agatha  was  sitting  up  and  delighted  to  see  them. 
She  said  they  were  the  first  of  the  family  who  had  come 
to  visit  her,  and  she  thought  they  had  come  because  she 
was  thinking  of  them.  Then  she  told  Kate  about  her 
illness.  She  said  it  dated  from  father  Bates  stroke,  and 
the  dreadful  days  immediately  following,  when  Adam 
had  completely  lost  self-control,  and  she  had  not  been 
able  to  influence  him.  "I  think  it  broke  my  heart,"  she 
said  simply.  Then  they  talked  the  family  over,  and  at 
last  Agatha  said:  "Kate,  what  is  this  I  hear  about 
Robert?  Have  you  been  informed  that  Mrs.  Southey  is 
back  in  Hartley,  and  that  she  is  working  every  possible 
chance  and  using  multifarious  blandishments  on  him?" 

Kate  laughed  heartily  and  suddenly.  She  never  had 
heard  "blandishments"  used  in  common  conversation. 
As  she  struggled  to  regain  self-possession  Agatha  spoke 
again. 

"It's  no  laughing  matter,"  she  said.  "The  report 
has  every  ear-mark  of  verisimilitude.  The  Bates  family 
has  a  way  of  feeling  deeply.  We  all  loved  Nancy  Ellen. 
We  all  suffered  severely  and  lost  something  that  never 
could  be  replaced  when  she  went.  Of  course  all  of  us 
realized  that  Robert  would  enter  the  bonds  of  matrimony 
again;  none  of  us  would  have  objected,  even  if  he  re- 
married soon;  but  all  of  us  do  object  to  his  marrying  a 
woman  who  would  have  broken  Nancy  Ellen's  heart  if 


466  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

she  could ;  and  yesterday  I  took  advantage  of  my  illness, 
and  told  him  so.  Then  I  asked  him  why  a  man  of  his 
standing  and  ability  in  this  community  didn't  frustrate 
that  unprincipled  creature's  vermiculations  toward  him, 
by  marrying  you,  at  once." 

Slowly  Kate  sank  down  in  her  chair.  Her  face  whitened 
and  then  grew  greenish.     She  breathed  with  difficulty. 

"Oh,  Agatha!"  was  all  she  could  say. 

"I  do  not  regret  it,"  said  Agatha.  "If  he  is  going  to 
ruin  himself,  he  is  not  going  to  do  it  without  knowing  that 
the  Bates  family  highly  disapprove  of  his  course." 

"But  why  drag  me  in?"  said  Kate,  almost  too  shocked 
to  speak  at  all.  "Maybe  he  loves  Mrs.  Southey.  She 
has  let  him  see  how  she  feels  about  him;  possibly  he  feels 
the  same  about  her." 

"He"  does,  if  he  weds  her,"  said  Agatha,  conclusively. 
"Anything  any  one  could  say  or  do  would  have  no  effect, 
if  he  had  centred  his  affections  upon  her,  of  that  you  may 
be  very  sure." 

"May  I?"  asked  Kate,  dully. 

"Indeed,  you  may!"  said  Agatha.  "The  male  of  the 
species,  when  he  is  a  man  of  Robert's  attainments  and 
calibre,  can  be  swerved  from  pursuit  of  the  female  he 
covets,  by  nothing  save  extinction." 

"You  mean,"  said  Kate  with  an  effort,  "that  if  Robert 
asked  a  woman  to  marry  him,  it  would  mean  that  he  loved 
her." 

"Indubitably!"   cried  Agatha. 

Kate  laughed  until  she  felt  a  little  better,  but  she  went 


THE  ELEVENTH  HOUR  467 

home  in  a  mood  far  different  from  that  in  which  she 
started.  Then  she  had  been  very  happy,  and  she  had 
intended  to  tell  Agatha  about  her  happiness,  the  very 
first  of  all.  Now  she  was  far  from  happy.  Possibly — a 
thousand  things,  the  most  possible,  that  Robert  had 
responded  to  Agatha's  suggestion,  and  stopped  and 
asked  her  that  abrupt  question,  from  an  impulse  as  sudden 
and  inexplicable  as  had  possessed  her  when  she  married 
George  Holt.  Kate  fervently  wished  she  had  gone  to  the 
cornfield  as  usual  that  afternoon. 

"That's  the  way  it  goes,"  she  said  angrily,  as  she 
threw  off  her  better  dress  and  put  on  her  every-day  ging- 
ham to  prepare  supper.  "That's  the  way  it  goes!  Stay 
in  your  element,  and  go  on  with  your  work,  and  you're  all 
right.  Leave  your  job  and  go  trapesing  over  the  country, 
wasting  your  time,  and  you  get  a  heartache  to  pay  you. 
I  might  as  well  give  up  the  idea  that  I'm  ever  to  be  happy, 
like  anybody  else.  Every  time  I  think  happiness  is  com- 
ing my  way,  along  comes  something  that  knocks  it 
higher  than  Gilderoy's  kite.     Hang  the  luck!" 

She  saw  Robert  pass  while  she  was  washing  the  dishes, 
and  knew  he  was  going  to  Agatha's,  and  would  stop  when 
he  came  back.  She  finished  her  work,  put  Little  Poll 
to  bed,  and  made  herself  as  attractive  as  she  knew  how 
in  her  prettiest  blue  dress.  All  the  time  she  debated 
whether  she  would  say  anything  to  him  about  what 
Agatha  had  said  or  not.  She  decided  she  would  wait 
awhile,  and  watch  how  he  acted.  She  thought  she  could 
soon  tell.     So  when  Robert  came,  she  was  as  nearly  herself 


468 


A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 


as  possible,  but  when  he  began  to  talk  about  being  mar- 
ried soon,  the  most  she  would  say  was  that  she  would  begin 
to  think  about  it  at  Christmas,  and  tell  him  by  spring. 
Robert  was  bitterly  disappointed.  He  was  very  lonely; 
he  needed  better  housekeeping  than  his  aged  mother  was 
capable  of,  to  keep  him  up  to  a  high  mark  in  his  work. 
Neither  of  them  was  young  any  longer;  he  could  see  no 
reason  why  they  should  not  be  married  at  once.  Of  the 
reason  in  Kate's  mind,  he  had  not  a  glimmering.  But 
Kate  had  her  way.  She  would  not  even  talk  of  a  time, 
or  express  an  opinion  as  to  whether  she  would  remain  on 
the  farm,  or  live  in  Nancy  Ellen's  house,  or  sell  it  and 
build  whatever  she  wanted  for  herself.  Robert  went 
away  baffled,  and  disappointed  over  some  intangible 
thing  he  could  not  understand. 

For  six  weeks  Kate  tortured  herself,  and  kept  Robert 
from  being  happy.  Then  one  morning  Agatha  stopped 
to  visit  with  her,  while  Adam  drove  on  to  town.  After 
they  had  exhausted  farming,  Little  Poll's  charms,  and  the 
neighbours,  Agatha  looked  at  Kate  and  said:  "Kath- 
erine,  what  is  this  I  hear  about  Robert  coming  here  every 
day,  now?  It  appeals  to  me  that  he  must  have  followed 
my  advice." 

"Of  course  he  never  would  have  thought  of  coming,  if 
you  hadn't  told  him  to,"  said  Kate  dryly. 

"Now  there  you  are  in  error,"  said  the  literal  Agatha, 
as  she  smoothed  down  Little  Poll's  skirts  and  twisted  her 
ringlets  into  formal  corkscrews.  "Right  there,  you  are  in 
error,  my  dear.     The  reason  I  told  Robert  to  marry  you 


THE  ELEVENTH  HOUR*  469 

was  because  he  said  to  me,  when  he  suggested  going  after 
you  to  stay  the  night  with  me,  that  he  had  seen  you  in  the 
field  when  he  passed,  and  that  you  were  the  most  glorious 
specimen  of  womanhood  that  he  ever  had  seen.  He  said 
you  were  the  one  to  stay  with  me,  in  case  there  should  be 
any  trouble,  because  your  head  was  always  level,  and 
your  heart  was  big  as  a  barrel." 

"Yes,  that's  the  reason  I  can't  always  have  it  with  me," 
said  Kate,  looking  glorified  instead  of  glorious.  "Agatha, 
it  just  happens  to  mean  very  much  to  me.  Will  you  just 
kindly  begin  at  the  beginning,  and  tell  me  every  single 
word  Robert  said  to  you,  and  you  said  to  him,  that  day?" 

"Why,  I  have  informed  you  explicitly,"  said  Agatha, 
using  her  handkerchief  on  the  toe  of  Poll's  blue  shoe. 
"He  mentioned  going  after  you,  and  said  what  I  told 
you,  and  I  told  him  to  go.  He  praised  you  so  highly  that 
when  I  spoke  to  him  about  the  Southey  woman  I  remem- 
bered it,  so  I  suggested  you  to  him,  as  he  seemed  to  think  so 
well  of  you.  It  just  that  minute  flashed  into  my  mind; 
but  he  made  me  think  of  it,  calling  you  'glorious,'  and 
'level  headed,'  and  'big  hearted.'  Heavens!  Katherine 
Eleanor,  what  more  could  you  ask?" 

"I  guess  that  should  be  enough,"  said  Kate. 

"One  certainly  would  presume  so,"  said  Agatha. 

Then  Adam  came,  and  handed  Kate  her  mail  as  she 
stood  beside  his  car  talking  to  him  a  minute,  while  Agatha 
settled  herself.  As  Kate  closed  the  gate  behind  her,  she 
saw  a  big,  square  white  envelope  among  the  newspapers, 
advertisements,  and  letters.     She  slipped  it  out  and  looked 


470  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

at  it  intently.  Then  she  ran  her  finger  under  the  flap  and 
read  the  contents.  She  stood  studying  the  few  lines  it 
contained,  frowning  deeply.  "Doesn't  it  beat  the  band?" 
she  asked  of  the  surrounding  atmosphere.  She  went  up  the 
walk,  entered  the  living  room,  slipped  the  letter  under  the 
lid  of  the  big  family  Bible,  and  walking  to  the  telephone  she 
called  Dr.  Gray's  office.     He  answered  the  call  in  person. 

"Robert,  this  is  Kate,"  she  said.  "Would  you  have 
any  deeply  rooted  objections  to  marrying  me  at  six 
o'clock  this  evening?" 

"Well,  I  should  say  not!"  boomed  Robert's  voice,  the 
''not"  coming  so  forcibly  Kate  dodged. 

"Have  you  got  the  information  necessary  for  a  license?" 
she  asked. 

"Yes,"  he  answered. 

"Then  bring  one,  and  your  minister,  and  come  at  six," 
she  said.  "And  Oh,  yes,  Robert,  will  it  be  all  right  with 
you  if  I  stay  here  and  keep  house  for  Adam  until  he  and 
Milly  can  be  married  and  move  in?  Then  I'll  come  to 
your  house  just  as  it  is.  I  don't  mind  coming  to  Nancy 
Ellen's  home,  as  I  would  another  woman's." 

"Surely!"  he  cried.  "Any  arrangement  you  make 
will  satisfy  me." 

"All  right,  I'll  expect  you  with  the  document  and  the 
minister  at  six,  then,"  said  Kate,  and  hung  up  the  receiver. 

Then  she  took  it  down  again  and  calling  Milly,  asked 
her  to  bring  her  best  white  dress,  and  come  up  right 
away,  and  help  her  get  ready  to  entertain  a  few  people 
that  evening.     Then  she  called  her  sister  Hannah,  and 


THE  ELEVENTH  HOUR  471 

asked  her  if  she  thought  that  in  the  event  she,  Kate, 
wished  that  evening  at  six  o'clock  to  marry  a  very  fine 
man,  and  had  no  preparations  whatever  made,  her  family 
would  help  her  out  to  the  extent  of  providing  the  supper. 
She  wanted  all  of  them,  and  all  the  children,  but  the 
arrangement  had  come  up  suddenly,  and  she  could  not 
possibly  prepare  a  supper  herself,  for  such  a  big  family, 
in  the  length  of  time  she  had.  Hannah  said  she  was 
perfectly  sure  everyone  of  them  would  drop  everything, 
and  be  tickled  to  pieces  to  bring  the  supper,  and  to  come, 
and  they  would  have  a  grand  time.  What  did  Kate 
want?  Oh,  she  wanted  bread,  and  chicken  for  meat, 
maybe  some  potato  chips,  and  Angel's  Food  cake,  and  a 
big  freezer  or  two  of  Agatha's  best  iced  cream,  and  she 
thought  possibly  more  butter,  and  coffee,  than  she  had  on 
hand.  She  had  plenty  of  sugar,  and  cream,  and  pickles 
and  jelly.  She  would  have  the  tables  all  set  as  she  did 
for  Christmas.  Then  Kate  rang  for  Adam  and  put  a 
broom  in  his  hand  as  he  entered  the  back  door.  She  met 
Milly  with  a  pail  of  hot  water  and  cloths  to  wash  the 
glass.  She  went  to  her  room  and  got  out  her  best  after- 
noon dress  of  dull  blue  with  gold  lace  and  a  pink  velvet 
rose.  She  shook  it  out  and  studied  it.  She  had  worn 
it  twice  on  the  trip  North.  None  of  them  save  Adam 
ever  had  seen  it.  She  put  it  on,  and  looked  at  it  critically. 
Then  she  called  Milly  and  they  changed  the  neck  and 
sleeves  a  little,  took  a  yard  of  width  from  the  skirt,  and 
behold!  it  became  a  "creation,"  in  the  very  height  of  style. 
Then  Kate  opened  her  trunk,  and  got  out  the  petticoat, 


472  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

hose,  and  low  shoes  to  match  it,  and  laid  them  on  her 
bed. 

Then  they  set  the  table,  laid  a  fire  ready  to  strike  in 
the  cook  stove,  saw  that  the  gas  was  all  right,  set  out  the 
big  coffee  boiler,  and  skimmed  a  crock  full  of  cream.  By 
four  o'clock,  they  could  think  of  nothing  else  to  do. 
Then  Kate  bathed  and  went  to  her  room  to  dress.  Adam 
and  Milly  were  busy  making  themselves  fine.  Little  Poll 
sat  in  her  prettiest  dress,  watching  her  beloved  "Tate," 
until  Adam  came  and  took  her.  He  had  been  instructed 
to  send  Robert  and  the  minister  to  his  mother's  room 
as  soon  as  they  came.  Kate  was  trying  to  look  her  best, 
yet  making  haste,  so  that  she  would  be  ready  on  time. 
She  had  made  no  arrangements  except  to  spread  a  white 
goatskin  where  she  and  Robert  would  stand  at  the  end 
of  the  big  living  room  near  her  door.  Before  she  was 
fully  dressed  she  began  to  hear  young  voices  and  knew 
that  her  people  were  coming.  When  she  was  ready  Kate 
looked  at  herself  and  muttered:  "I'll  give  Robert  and 
all  of  them  a  good  surprise.  This  is  a  real  dress,  thanks 
to  Nancy  Ellen.  The  poor  girl!  It's  scarcely  fair  to  her 
to  marry  her  man  in  a  dress  she  gave  me;  but  I'd  stake  my 
life  she'd  rather  I'd  have  him  than  any  other  woman." 

It  was  an  evening  of  surprises.  At  six,  Adam  lighted 
a  big  log,  festooned  with  leaves  and  berries  so  that  the 
flames  roared  and  crackled  up  the  chimney.  The  early 
arrivals  were  the  young  people  who  had  hung  the  mantel, 
gas  fixtures,  curtain  poles  and  draped  the  doors  with  long 
sprays  of  bittersweet,  northern  holly,  and  great  branches 


THE  ELEVENTH  HOUR  473 

of  red  spice  berries,  dogwood  with  its  red  leaves  and 
berries,  and  scarlet  and  yellow  oak  leaves.  The  elders 
followed  and  piled  the  table  with  heaps  of  food,  then 
trailed  red  vines  between  dishes.  In  a  quandary  as  to 
what  to  wear,  without  knowing  what  was  expected  of  him 
further  than  saying  "I  will,"  at  the  proper  moment, 
Robert  ended  by  slipping  into  Kate's  room,  dressed  in 
white  flannel.  The  ceremony  was  over  at  ten  minutes  after 
six.  Kate  was  lovely,  Robert  was  handsome,  everyone  was 
happy,  the  supper  was  a  banquet.  The  Bates  family  went 
home,  Adam  disappeared  with  Milly,  while  Little  Poll  went 
to  sleep. 

Left  to  themselves,  Robert  took  Kate  in  his  arms  and 
tried  to  tell  her  how  much  he  loved  her,  but  felt  he  ex- 
pressed himself  poorly.  As  she  stood  before  him,  he  said : 
"And  now,  dear,  tell  me  what  changed  you,  and  why 
we  are  married  to-night  instead  of  at  Christmas,  or  in 
the  spring." 

"Oh,  yes,"  said  Kate,  "I  almost  forgot!  Why,  I  wanted 
you  to  answer  a  letter  for  me." 

"Lucid!"  said  Robert.  He  seated  himself  beside  the 
table.  "Bring  on  the  ink  and  stationery,  and  let  me  get 
it  over." 

Kate  obeyed,  and  with  the  writing  material,  laid  down 
the  letter  she  had  that  morning  received  from  John 
Jardine,  telling  her  that  his  wife  had  died  suddenly,  and 
that  as  soon  as  he  had  laid  her  away,  he  was  coming  to 
exact  a  definite  promise  from  her  as  to  the  future;  and 
that  he  would  move  Heaven  and  earth  before  he  would 


474  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  LAND 

again  be  disappointed.  Robert  read  the  letter  and  laid 
it  down,  his  face  slowly  flushing  scarlet. 

"You  called  me  out  here,  and  married  me  expressly 
to  answer  this?"  he  demanded. 

"Of  course!'*  said  Kate.  "I  thought  if  you  could  tell 
him  that  his  letter  came  the  day  I  married  you,  it  would 
stop  his  coming,  and  not  be  such  a  disappointment  to  him." 

Robert  pushed  the  letter  from  him  violently  and  arose 

"By !"  he  checked  himself  and  stared  at  her.   "Kate, 

you  don't  mean  that!"  he  cried.  "Tell  me,  you  don't 
mean  that!" 

"Why,  sure  I  do,"  said  Kate.  "It  gave  me  a  fine 
excuse.  I  was  so  homesick  for  you,  and  tired  waiting  to 
begin  life  with  you.  Agatha  told  me  about  her  telling 
you  the  day  she  was  ill,  to  marry  me;  and  the  reason  I 
wouldn't  was  because  I  thought  maybe  you  asked  me  so 
oflFhandlike,  because  she  told  you  to,  and  you  didn't 
really  love  me.  Then  this  morning  she  was  here,  and  we 
were  talking,  and  she  got  round  it  again,  and  then  she 
told  me  all  you  said,  and  I  saw  you  did  love  me,  and  that 
you  would  have  asked  me  if  she  hadn  t  said  anything, 
and  I  wanted  you  so  badly.  Robert,  ever  since  that  day 
we  met  on  the  footlog,  I've  known  that  you  were  the 
only  man  I'd  ever  really  want  to  marry.  Robert,  I've 
never  come  anywhere  near  loving  anybody  else.  The 
minute  Agatha  told  me  this  morning,  I  began  to  think 
how  I  could  take  back  what  I'd  been  saying,  how  I  could 
change,  and  right  then  Adam  handed  me  that  letter,  and 
it  gave  me  a  fine  way  out,  and  so  I  called  you.    Sure,  I 


THE  ELEVENTH  HOUR  475 

married  you  to  answer  that,  Robert;  now  go  and  do 
it." 

"All  right,"  he  said.    "In  a  minute." 

Then  he  walked  to  her  and  took  her  in  his  arms  again, 
but  Kate  could  not  understand  why  he  was  laughing 
until  he  shook  when  he  kissed  her. 


THE    END 


THE    COUNTRY    LIFE    PRESS 
GARDEN    CITY,    N.   Y. 


/  -70 


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